THE    STONE    OF    DESTINY 


UNIT.  Of  CALIF.  LIBRARY.  LOS  ANGELES 


THE   STONE  OF  DESTINY 


BY 

KATHERINE 
MACKAY 


OOOOOQQOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOQO 

HARPER  &   BROTHERS  PUBLISHERS 
NEW  YORK  AND  LONDON     ::    MCMIV 


Copyright,  1904,  by  HARPER  &  BROTHERS 

All  rights  reserved. 
Published  March,  1904. 


Jl 

I  DEDICATE  THIS  BOOK 
TO  THE  ONE  FOB-  WHOM  IT  WAS  WEITTEN 

J* 


THE    STONE    OF    DESTINY 


IHERE  is  a  fine  old  house  some- 
rp>  ^^  where  in  Touraine  —  a  house 
-I-  *§£  which  has  been  a  silent  witness 
of  the  coming  and  going  of 
many  generations  of  men  and  women  who 
lived  and  suffered  and  loved  through  the 
history  of  France  —  a  house  built  in  the 
time  of  Louis  XI.  for  a  woman  of  manlike 
strength  and  passions,  whose  personality 
persevered  through  many  of  her  descend- 
ants even  to  the  present  day,  flashing  forth 
in  their  worst  as  well  as  their  finest  deeds, 
in  their  quick  temper,  their  great  love. 
1 


THE   STONE    OF    DESTINY 

In  this  house  remained  the  room  in  which 
that  Theodora  slept — a  big,  stone  room, 
as  cold  and  severe  as  the  lady  herself,  un- 
til, some  two  hundred  years  ago,  the  Theo- 
dora of  that  day  found  the  plain  walls  and 
dark  furniture  an  unbecoming  and  uncom- 
fortable background  for  her  dainty  per- 
sonality, and  hung  fine  tapestries  on  the 
walls,  and  placed  a  great  gold  bed  between 
the  windows,  and  filled  the  room  with 
quaintly  luxurious  furniture  in  which  she 
indolently  idled  her  life  away. 

To-day  the  curtains  are  drawn;  and 
through  a  single  window  there  penetrates 
so  little  light  that  the  faded  figures  in  the 
tapestries  serve  only  to  keep  a  dim  vigil  on 
the  sleeping  woman  lying  in  the  bed. 

The  chimes  of  the  tower  clock  sound  the 
hour,  and  with  a  sigh  the  sleeper  stirs  and 
wakes  and  turns  to  the  tiny  scrap  of  hu- 


THE    STONE    OF    DESTINY 

manity  snuggling  close  against  her.  With 
searching  eyes  she  looks  into  the  baby's 
face,  questioning  the  lineless  and  delicately 
veined  forehead.  She  smiles,  because  she 
sees  the  answer  to  her  heart's  wish  written 
on  that  soft,  clear  brow. 

Gently  she  lifts  the  sleeping  babe  and 
folds  it  to  her  breast,  whispering :  "  You 
will  be  what  I  could  not  be;  you  must  do 
what  your  father  would  not  do ;  and  I  shall 
show  you  the  way.  And,  boy,  you 
must  trust  me  with  all  your  soul,  and,  re- 
lying upon  my  guidance,  fulfil  the  mission 
to  which  you  are  born.  Few  may  boast  of 
such  a  one,  for  you  are  the  child  of  love. 
I  shall  open  the  small  part  of  nature  which 
I  know  to  your  understanding,  teaching 
you  the  difference  between  right  and  wrong. 
Because  you  are  what  you  are,  you  will  go 
far  beyond  me." 

8 


THE    STONE    OF    DESTINY 

The  infant's  brow  wrinkles,  the  little 
face  puckering  into  a  caricature  of  itself; 
its  eyes  open,  and  in  their  depths  the 
mother  sees  an  evil  look,  as  though  a 
demon-sprite  had  stolen  her  baby  from  her 
arms  and  left  a  changeling  in  its  stead. 
For  an  instant  she  gazes,  fascinated  as  by 
an  evil  thing,  and  as  she  looks,  with  all  her 
love  beating  in  her  breast,  the  baby  smiles 
and  yawns  and  is  its  placid,  little,  sleepy 
self  again.  And  as  the  mother  continues 
to  muse  of  the  future,  seeing  in  her  imagi- 
nation all  his  life  unfold  before  her  until 
he  reaches  his  destiny,  her  eyes  are  closed 
in  sleep,  and  she  stands  at  the  foot  of  a 
hill  which  she  must  ascend.  The  road  is 
hard,  and  her  feet  are  weary  when  she 
reaches  the  top.  Because  she  has  reached 
the  summit  her  being  rejoices,  and  she 
smiles.  But  the  smile  dies  on  her  lips,  for 
4 


THE    STONE    OF    DESTINY 

she  stands  face  to  face  with  that  same 
changeling  sprite,  and  it  speaks  in  a 
strangely  familiar  voice  and  says,  "  I  am 
your  retribution." 


II 

£OME  twenty  years  have  passed. 
Again  the  stately  mansion  by 
the  river.  Theodora  and  her 
son  sit  in  the  tapestried  room, 
reading  by  the  soft,  warm  light  of  the 
shaded  lamps. 

Time  has  passed  as  gently  over  her 
golden  head  as  he  has  touched  the  faded 
ladies  on  the  walls.  The  years  seem  to  have 
been  a  caress,  serving  but  to  enhance  her 
strange  beauty  with  the  marks  of  sympathy 
and  sadness  they  have  imprinted  in  their 
wake. 

Presently  the  boy  closed  his  book  and 
looked  at  his   mother  earnestly.     Uncon- 
6 


THE    STONE    OF    DESTINY 

scious  of  his  scrutiny,  the  thoughts  of  her 
heart  flitted  across  her  troubled  brow 
and  revealed  their  weariness  in  the  lines 
around  her  mouth.  And  the  son  noted 
what  a  curiously  fascinating  face  it 
was — how  straight  and  pure  of  line,  how 
full  of  something  hiding  in  the  shadows 
of  her  eyes  which  he  had  never  under- 
stood. 

The  lustre  of  her  red-gold  hair  had  held 
the  illusion  of  perpetual  youth  as  a  halo 
around  her  face,  of  a  youth  which  is  not 
stationary,  but  feeds  upon  the  years,  mak- 
ing them  relinquish  their  mastery  and  yield 
wisdom  and  experience  without  demanding 
the  usual  price. 

Gentle  she  always  seemed,  ever  willing 

to  extend  to  another  a  helping  hand,  full 

of  sympathetic  understanding.     And  what 

beautiful,  small,  strong  hands  they  were! 

7 


THE   STONE   OP    DESTINY 

Theodor  saw  the  manner  in  which  they 
held  the  book  she  was  reading,  and  he  won- 
dered if  the  writing  in  the  palms  told  her 
mystery. 

She  sighed,  closed  the  book,  raised  her 
eyes  to  his,  and  said: 

"What  is  it,  Theodor?  Does  the  read- 
ing weary  you  so  easily?  It  tired  me,  too, 
at  your  age.  I  felt  as  if,  when  the  day 
should  come  that  I  might  leave  teachers 
and  classes  behind  me,  I  could  really  live. 
For  a  little  while  I  did,  and  was  happy,  too. 
But  one  evening — it  was  after  a  grand  ball 
— I  came  into  this  room,  and  it  seemed  as 
though  scales  dropped  from  my  eyes  and 
I  saw  how  useless  I  was  and  how  lonely 
this  room.  Why? — I  wondered.  I  look- 
ed around  —  because  there  was  nothing 
alive  in  it.  Tapestries  on  the  walls — yes, 
furniture,  too,  in  plenty  and  beauty,  but 
8 


THE    STONE    OF    DESTINY 

not  a  living  thing  to  give  companionship. 
So,  in  the  days  which  followed,  one  by  one, 
carefully  and  tenderly,  I  collected  and 
arranged  my  old  books.  Many  new  friends 
they  helped  me  to  know ;  but,  after  all,  the 
best  companionship  we  get  is  from  those 
who  wait  through  months  and  years  upon 
their  shelves,  asking  for  nothing,  yet  al- 
ways ready  to  yield  wisdom  and  joy  and 
sorrow  to  the  last  word  on  the  last  page. 
How  often  have  I  come  here  and  felt  grate- 
ful for  their  friendship  and  their  sym- 
pathy!" 

As  she  spoke  Theodor  felt  she  could  read 
his  thoughts,  so  clear  and  straight  was  the 
glance  from  her  gray-blue  eyes. 

"  But,  mother,"  he  answered,  "  I  love 
this  hour  we  spend  together  every  even- 
ing. I  was  not  tired  of  the  book.  I  was 
looking  at  you.  It  always  seems  to  me 
9 


THE   STONE    OF    DESTINY 

that  you  are  sad  through  me,  as  if  I  worried 
you.  Do  I?" 

"  No,  dear,"  she  smiled ;  "  you  are  hap- 
piness itself  to  me;  it  is  for  you  alone  I 
live." 

"  And  yet  there  is  a  dark  shadow  some- 
where, for  I  feel  it.  Do  tell  me;  I  really 
could  understand." 

His  voice  was  very  persuasive. 

"  Theodor,  shall  I  read  you  the  story 
I  have  finished?  Perhaps  you  may  see 
why  I  looked  sad.  It  was  written  many 
years  ago,  but  has  just  been  published." 

She  opened  the  book  and  began  to  read, 
in  a  voice  which  sounded  far  away: 

The  King's  daughter  walked  out  of  the 

palace  door  and  stood  on  the  terrace  steps. 

The  dawn  was  lifting  the  night  mists  from 

the  distant  mountains,  but  the  gardens  be- 

10 


THE    STONE    OF    DESTINY 

neath  the  terrace  railing  were  still  full  of 
the  mystery  of  the  night. 

She  walked  into  the  shadows  and 
through  the  blackness  under  the  trees  until 
she  reached  the  stone  wall  and  iron  gates 
which  divided  the  dwelling  of  the  ruler 
from  the  homes  of  those  he  ruled.  She 
looked  through  the  railing  and  into  the 
silent  city  with  fearless  eyes,  for  her  be- 
loved was  coming  to  her  from  one  of  those 
dark  streets.  Her  heart  was  full  of  all 
the  love  and  tenderness  which  duty  had 
silenced  during  these  long  years,  and  now 
and  here  was  truth  born  of  love  and 
sorrow. 

She  had  sent  for  him  to  meet  her  at  this 
gate  at  dawn,  and  when  he  should  come 
she  would  lead  him  again  into  those  paths 
where  they  had  walked  together  years 
ago. 

11 


THE    STONE    OF    DESTINY 

She  had  clothed  herself  in  the  clinging 
robe  of  silver  thread  which  she  had  worn 
in  that  moment  when  his  lips  had  awaken- 
ed her  inmost  being.  Her  golden  hair  was 
twisted  loosely  at  her  neck,  and  framed  her 
beautiful  white  face  with  curling  softness. 
She  was  so  pure  and  fair,  so  like  a  stray 
moonbeam  forgotten  by  the  night,  that  the 
stars  paused  for  an  instant  in  their  flight 
towards  the  dawn,  and  marvelled  that  an 
earth-child  could  radiate  such  beauty. 

She  held  three  gifts  for  her  beloved  in 
her  hand — the  Thread  of  Life,  the  Image 
of  Love,  and  the  Stone  of  Destiny.  And 
as  she  stood  and  waited  the  hour  passed. 

The  cold  wind  of  the  dawn  dissolved 
the  darkness  from  each  recess  in  the  street. 
The  Princess  shivered  as  she  looked  in 
vain  for  him  she  loved. 


THE   STONE    OF    DESTINY 

The  wind  grew  stronger  and  seemed  to 
penetrate  and  chill  the  warmth  within  her 
heart.  She  had  asked  him  to  come  on  this 
day — their  day  of  the  year,  and  he  would 
not.  The  woman  instinct  in  her  felt  that, 
had  she  been  the  man,  nothing  could  have 
come  between  them.  She  raised  her  hand 
to  still  the  beating  of  her  waiting  heart, 
and  as  she  did  so  the  cruel  wind  tore  the 
Thread  of  Life  from  her  grasp  and  float- 
ed it  away  with  the  night-shadows.  It 
fluttered  on  the  air,  glittering  dimly,  and 
then  vanished  in  the  distance. 

Each  moment  seemed,  in  passing,  to 
stamp  a  half -formed  dread  into  her  mind 
that  Hope  was  dying.  A  distant  echo 
from  the  street  took  up  the  pulse  within 
her  heart,  and  the  rhythm  seemed  to  say : 

"  Hope  is  dead,  resting  in  the  golden 
days  of  the  years  that  were.  Call  not  to 
13 


THE   STONE    OF    DESTINY 

thy  beloved,  for  he  will  not  hear  thee. 
Let  him  sleep  in  thy  memory,  for  he  is 
beautiful." 

Then  the  rain  began  to  fall,  and  the 
Princess  placed  the  Image  of  Love  in  her 
breast  so  it  should  not  be  harmed. 

She  waited  still,  for  she  could  not  think 
he  would  fail  to  come  to  her. 

A  hammering  on  the  scaffold  in  the 
market-place  and  the  dripping  of  the  rain 
filled  her  with  dull  apprehension. 

She  took  the  tablet  from  her  breast  and 
looked  at  the  Image  of  Love  and  wept. 
Again  she  looked,  and,  behold!  her  tears 
had  washed  away  the  Image. 

And  as  there  remained  but  one  gift, 
she  took  a  locket  from  her  neck  and 
placed  the  Stone  of  Destiny  therein  for 
safety. 

And  the  second  hour  had  passed. 
14 


THE   STONE    OF    DESTINY 

A  gray  light  crept  over  the  city;  the 
rain  ceased;  no  sound  save  the  hammering 
in  the  market-place  broke  the  calm  still- 
ness of  the  new  day.  Nature  stood  upon 
the  threshold  of  the  morning  as  if  to  meas- 
ure her  strength  to  bear  the  daily  burden 
of  joy  and  sorrow. 

The  Princess  leaned  against  the  gate, 
and  the  coldness  of  the  stone  and  the  in- 
flexibility of  the  iron,  symbols  of  man's 
laws,  held  her  within  the  narrow  limit  of 
the  royal  garden. 

"  Freedom  to  go  to  him !"  her  heart 
cried. 

"  Courage  to  live  without  him !"  her 
soul  answered. 

The  third  hour  was  nearly  gone  as  the 
crimson  light  spreading  in  the  east  showed 
that  the  morning  was  coming  over  the 
earth. 

15 


THE    STONE    OF    DESTINY 

A  tramping  of  many  footsteps  sounded 
from  the  distance;  louder  and  nearer  it 
grew,  until  a  regiment  of  soldiers  turned 
into  the  street  which  her  saddened  eyes  still 
searched  for  her  beloved. 

On  they  came,  marching  silently  by  the 
royal  gate,  with  eyes  cast  down  and  heavy 
tread. 

In  their  midst,  with  his  arms  bound  to 
his  sides,  his  step  firm,  his  head  erect,  walk- 
ed the  beloved. 

A  strange  woman,  her  arms  bound  too, 
was  beside  him. 

He  was  speaking  to  her  gently  and  lov- 
ingly, as  though  she  alone  filled  this  last 
hour. 

The  Princess  shrank  against  the  wall. 

She,   too,   stood   erect.      For   one   instant 

their  eyes  met,  and  for  the  first  time  this 

woman  and  this  man  understood  each  other. 

16 


THE   STONE   OF    DESTINY 

She  stood  immovable ;  they  marched  on  and 
into  the  market-place. 

There  they  paused.  There  was  an  awful 
silence,  a  muffled  beating  of  the  drums,  and 
those  two  had  gone  into  the  Fulfilment. 

Wearily  the  Princess  turned  back  into 
the  garden  and  walked  under  the  rustling 
leaves  until  she  reached  the  terrace.  Slow- 
ly she  ascended  the  steps;  the  Stone  of 
Destiny  in  the  locket  around  her  neck 
seemed  heavy  beyond  her  strength. 

At  the  threshold  of  the  palace  door  she 
turned.  Beneath  her  lay  the  city;  the  sun 
was  rising  over  the  hills.  She  pushed  open 
the  heavy  door,  and  as  it  closed  behind  her 
the  third  hour  had  passed. 

Theodor's  eyes  were  full  of  tears.     The 
son  saw  that  his  mother  had  not  read,  but 
told  the  story,  and  in  the  silence  of  the 
17 


THE    STONE   OF    DESTINY 

room  he  felt  her  heart  quivering  under  his 
gaze. 

The  portiere  was  drawn  aside  and  her 
husband  entered  the  room.  His  snow-white 
hair  emphasized  the  difference  in  age  be- 
tween them. 

He  greeted  Theodora  and  the  youth,  and 
then,  drawing  an  arm-chair  close  to  his 
wife,  and  sighing  happily,  he  said: 

"  If  you  knew  how  glad  I  am  to  be  back 
here  with  you  again,  out  and  away  from 
the  turmoil  of  the  city!  I  almost  wish  I 
had  no  business  and  could  live  all  my  days 
peacefully  with  you."  His  eyes  rested  on 
the  book  in  his  wife's  hand.  "  So  you  are 
reading  Gray's  book!  I  was  talking  to  a 
man  about  it  this  afternoon.  He  told  me 
Mrs.  Gray  found  all  these  stories  jumbled 
together  in  Gray's  desk  shortly  after  his 
death.  It  seems  she  went  over  them  and 
18 


THE    STONE   OF    DESTINY 

arranged  them  in  a  sort  of  sequence,  be- 
cause they  appeared  to  be  addressed  to 
some  imaginary  woman.  That  is  why  she 
had  them  published  in  the  volume  called 
Unsent  Letters. 

"  How  curious  is  the  difference  between 
this  book  and  the  others !  The  contrast  of 
the  half-expressed  poetry  and  gentle  love- 
making  of  the  one  and  the  cutting  sarcasm 
and  dry  cynicism  of  the  others  is  startling. 

"  I  fail  to  comprehend  why  men  do  not 
give  the  best  of  their  imagination  as  well 
as  of  their  wit  to  their  readers. 

"  Gray  never  did.  He  separated  the 
two.  You  knew  him,  Theodora.  Did  he 
seem  to  be  composed  of  two  personalities 
so  utterly  at  variance?" 

Theodora  rose  and  walked  over  to  her 
husband.  She  took  the  book  from  his  hand 
and  placed  it  gently  upon  the  table  beside 
19 


THE   STONE   OF   DESTINY 

a  bowl  of  gardenias  which  seemed  to  bring 
an  echo  of  the  spring-time  into  the  winter 
evening.  One  of  the  flowers  she  took  be- 
tween her  fingers  and  looked  at  tenderly. 
Perhaps  its  fragrance  was  associated  with 
a  past  almost  forgotten,  for  her  words 
came  slowly,  almost  painfully: 

"  What  you  really  feel  you  cannot  con- 
trol, and  you  should  not  if  you  could. 

"  The  minor  emotions  we  make  our 
slaves  to  execute  our  bidding,  and  we  turn 
them  into  puppets,  which  reflect  a  little 
of  ourselves  to  those  who  walk  beside  us. 

"  Gray  possessed  the  complete  octave, 
but  the  shyness  of  his  real  self  prevented 
his  ever  touching  certain  chords  within  the 
hearing  of  those  whom  he  most  desired  to 
reach." 

She  was  speaking  to  Theodor,  and  as  she 
saw  he  understood  her  meaning  a  scarcely 
20 


THE   STONE   OF   DESTINY 

perceptible  smile  of  grateful  appreciation 
lighted  her  eyes  as  she  said: 

"  Now  you  must  go." 

Reluctantly  her  husband  rose  from  his 
easy-chair,  and,  with  Theodor's  arm  in  his, 
turned  away. 

As  the  door  closed  behind  them,  Theo- 
dora took  up  the  book  again,  and,  walking 
to  the  window,  drew  back  the  curtain  and 
looked  out  upon  the  river  and  the  hills  be- 
yond. She  did  not  see  the  snow  nor  the 
bleakness  of  the  landscape,  for  it  was  sum- 
mer-time again  in  her  heart.  The  golden 
sunlight  on  the  river  shone  into  her  soul, 
and  the  years  rolled  back  and  she  was  walk- 
ing along  the  river-bank  with  her  hand  in 
his,  knowing  love,  full  of  youth,  and 
breathing  in  the  fragrance  of  the  gardenia 
flower  he  had  given  her. 


Ill 

men  parted  in  the  hall,  and 
Theodor  went  to  his  own  room. 
In  the  morning  he  and  his 
mother  were  to  start  on  a  long 
journey  together,  far  into  the  world 
through  which  she  had  promised  to  go 
with  him,  leading  him  where  she  had  been 
years  before. 

Theodor  looked  around  his  room,  select- 
ed the  few  things  he  needed  to  take  with 
him,  and  dressed  for  dinner.  But  all  the 
time  he  was  mechanically  moving  about  and 
giving  directions  to  the  servant  a  strong 
undercurrent  of  sympathy  for  the  sor- 
rowful heart  in  the  room  yonder  throbbed 


THE    STONE    OF    DESTINY 

in  his  brain,  sweeping  away  the  barriers 
of  convention,  and  leaving  in  their  stead 
a  true  understanding  of  compassion  for 
woman. 

He  was  still  under  the  magic  of  the  new 
horizon  which  his  mother's  revelation  had 
opened  before  him  when  he  walked  into 
the  drawing-room  and  saw  Margaret  North 
standing  beside  Theodora.  Perhaps  his 
whole  nature  had  been  softened  by  that 
hour  in  his  mother's  room,  for  the  opening 
of  the  channels  of  gentleness  seemed  to 
have  made  his  heart  receptive,  and  he 
yielded  to  the  spell  of  the  lovely  girl.  He 
was  enthralled  by  her  beauty,  to  which  a 
gypsy-like  quality  lent  a  curious  fascina- 
tion. He  was  interested  in  this  undirected 
mind,  this  untrained  intelligence,  which  re- 
sponded so  readily  to  his  sympathetic  man- 
ner. He  loved  her  eyes  and  her  smiles,  so 
23 


THE   STONE   OF   DESTINY 

full  of  stored  sunlight,  so  virile  in  the  joy 
of  sentient  being. 

Theodor  knew  it  was  a  meeting  and  a 
parting  of  an  hour,  and  he  crowded  the 
wishes,  ambitions,  half-expressed  thoughts 
of  his  heart  into  his  words. 

He  told  her  of  this  long-planned  jour- 
ney of  the  morrow,  and  how  he  was  by 
studious  work  to  bring  his  talent  for  paint- 
ing to  maturity  under  the  guidance  of  the 
great  teachers  in  foreign  countries,  so  that 
some  day  he  might  have  a  ready  means  in 
his  power  to  show  beauty  and  hope  to  a 
world  numbed  by  suffering  and  despair. 
Through  his  pictures  he  would  speak,  and 
their  simplicity  should  be  an  exposition  of 
what  God  is. 

Margaret  wondered  at  the  fire  in  his 
eyes  and  at  the  extraordinary  use  of  words 
which  seemed  to  fill  all  he  said  with  life. 


THE    STONE    OF    DESTINY 

She  was  proud  of  his  evident  admiration, 
and  used  her  art  of  listening  until,  when 
they  said  good-night,  she  had  promised  to 
remember  and  to  write  to  him. 

His  heart  was  not  fully  grown,  and  the 
flexible  feelings  closed  upon  the  vision  of 
beauty,  and,  feeding  on  it,  kept  it  living 
there.  In  the  morning  mother  and  son 
started  on  their  way. 

First  they  went  to  Italy,  and  the  boy 
worked  earnestly.  Theodora  rejoiced  in  his 
growing  capacity  and  gave  wise  encourage- 
ment. When  she  saw  that  he  was  becoming 
influenced  by  the  emotions  and  passions  of 
mankind,  she  took  him  on  long  walks  and 
longer  drives  into  the  heart  of  the  country, 
teaching  him  to  draw  his  inspirations  and 
derive  his  ideals  from  Nature,  the  root  of 
all  things;  for  she  lived  in  constant  dread 
of  that  retribution  upon  her  own  life  which 
25 


THE   STONE    OF    DESTINY 

she  felt  must  come  through  her  innocent 
son. 

One  winter  night  in  Florence  mother  and 
son  looked  out  upon  the  Arno  in  the  twi- 
light. The  snow  was  falling  silently  into 
the  river  between  them  and  the  little 
stone  houses  which  seem  to  grow  out  of  the 
river-bed.  The  windows  were  lit  up  one 
by  one,  and  within  the  squalid  rooms  weary 
shadows  flitted  to  and  fro,  finishing  the 
drudgery  of  a  day's  work.  The  wretched 
poverty  brought  a  vision  to  Theodor's 
mind  of  the  gorgeous  kings  and  queens 
he  had  seen  that  afternoon,  flaunting  their 
luxury  upon  those  wonderful  canvases  into 
which  Titian  and  Veronese  had  stamped 
them  as  they  were,  full  of  their  vainglori- 
ous selves,  heedless  of  whence  came  the 
price  of  all  their  fine  jewels  and  rich 
clothes.  Again  he  looked  into  the  houses 
26 


THE    STONE    OF    DESTINY 

across  the  river;  the  snow  had  ceased;  he 
could  see  the  figures  more  distinctly.  Was 
this  the  life-beat  of  a  country?  Was  this 
the  human  tread-mill  which  kept  it  going? 
And  the  writing  on  those  walls  seemed  to 
be  in  the  words  of  Napoleon  when  he  said: 
"  Christianity,  by  promising  future  equal- 
ity, prevents  the  rich  from  being  massacred 
by  the  poor." 

Theodor  knew  the  handle  of  the  wheel 
was  in  his  hand.  Had  he  the  power  to 
turn  it? 

Then  there  was  one  wonderful  day  at 
Naples,  when  the  glory  of  the  glistening 
bay  and  the  life  of  the  glowing  city  lay  at 
his  feet,  the  vivid  beauty  of  this  living 
picture  stirring  Theodor  by  its  power.  He 
stood  too  far  above  on  the  mountain-side 
to  see  the  misery  hidden  in  the  streets;  he 
even  doubted  its  existence.  He  wondered 
27 


THE   STONE   OF   DESTINY 

if  aught  but  the  beauty  of  life  penetrated 
into  the  heart  of  God. 

And  always,  as  he  wandered  through 
the  country  from  village  to  town,  Mar- 
garet's face  was  with  him.  She  came  to 
be  an  invisible  companion,  to  whom  all 
secrets,  all  achievements,  all  disappoint- 
ments were  known.  Sometimes  he  wrote 
her  long  letters  which  must  have  laid  the 
depths  of  his  nature  clearly  before  her 
eyes.  Other  times  his  heart  was  too  full 
for  words,  and  a  sketch  of  what  he  saw 
from  the  mountain,  of  what  he  felt  in  the 
valley,  travelled  back  to  his  love.  He  read 
what  he  sought  in  her  answering  letters, 
either  in  her  words  or  between  her  lines. 

This  love  grew  with  him,  became  wholly 
his;  the  magic  of  the  spell  was  complete 
and  overwhelming  his  happiness. 

Time  passed,  and  mother  and  son  wan- 
28 


THE   STONE   OF   DESTINY 

dered  from  the  Old  World  to  the  New  and 
back  again,  until  at  the  end  of  those  three 
Wander  jdhre  which  had  changed  the  boy 
into  a  man,  they  stood  again  on  the 
threshold  of  their  home. 


IV 

^^^N  the  morning  he  found  Mar- 

T   ty&  garet    kneeling    in    the  long 

^J^  grass  by  the  river,  her  arms 


•WWWW*  full  of  the  purple  and  white 
irises  she  had  gathered.  She  seemed  a 
wild-flower  nymph  herself,  under  the  clear 
rays  of  the  early  sunlight,  something  apart 
and  different  from  the  world  he  had  dwelt 
in,  a  beautiful  human  link  in  Nature's 
chain  to  which  he  felt  there  was  no  end. 

He  walked  down  the  bank  and  knelt  be- 
side her  in  the  flowers.  When  she  saw  him 
coming  towards  her  she  stretched  her  arms 
out  to  him,  and  the  irises  were  scattered  be- 
fore him.  He  took  her  soft,  warm  hand 
30 


THE    STONE    OF    DESTINY 

in  his  and  kissed  it.  Thus,  without  a 
question,  without  an  answer,  they  were 
pledged  to  each  other  under  the  clear  blue 
sky,  in  the  radiance  of  the  morning,  as 
Nature  meant  man  and  woman  to  be  be- 
trothed. 

Then  he  raised  her  to  her  feet,  and, 
leading  her  still  farther  down  the  bank, 
drew  her  beside  him  to  the  water's  edge. 

Margaret,  awed  by  such  silent  love- 
making,  whispered,  "  Why  do  you  not 
speak  to  me,  Theodor?" 

He  softly  kissed  her  brow.  "  Why 
should  I  use  words?  They  are  not  deep 
enough  to  convey  my  love.  The  touch  of 
your  hand  answered  for  your  heart,  as  I 
knew  it  would.  You  have  been  mine  for 
three  whole  years,  the  cherished  angel  of 
my  soul.  Why  should  we  seek  to  exchange 
our  love  in  speech?" 

31 


THE   STONE   OF   DESTINY 

Again  he  kissed  her  and  whispered, 
"  This  is  my  way  of  telling  you." 

Margaret  looked  out  upon  the  river 
and  watched  a  boat  moving  slowly  with 
the  current.  Theodor's  glance  followed 
hers.  She  saw  only  how  small  and  dingy 
the  port-holes  were,  how  ugly  the  broad, 
flat  lines  of  the  stern.  He  saw  the  man  at 
the  tiller,  the  wife  with  the  baby  at  her 
breast  huddled  at  his  feet,  the  daughter 
standing  erect,  with  head  thrown  back,  her 
torn  blouse  revealing  her  young,  brown 
throat,  her  whole  body  tense  with  the 
eagerness  of  youth.  The  boat  drifted 
near  in  passing.  The  girl  in  the  ill-patch- 
ed clothes  turned  and  looked  at  the  girl  on 
the  bank  clad  in  soft  and  beautiful  finery. 
She  saw  the  contrast  in  the  flash  of  her 
glance.  For  one  moment  a  look  of  envious 
hate  wiped  the  hopefulness  from  the  sun- 
32 


THE   STONE   OF   DESTINY 

tanned  face;  then  she  sullenly  moved  to 
the  prow  of  the  boat  and  looked  down  the 
river.  Her  whole  body  was  relaxed,  in- 
different, hopeless. 

Theodor  sighed.  Then  he  said,  ear- 
nestly : 

"  Margaret,  I  wonder  if  my  letters  ever 
conveyed  to  you  how  keenly  I  feel  for  the 
great  mass  of  the  Unidentified,  those  who 
struggle  without  a  chance  from  their  be- 
ginning. 

"  The  more  I  travelled  the  more  I  saw, 
in  each  town,  in  every  city,  the  injustice 
in  the  manner  of  the  doing  of  the  world's 
work.  I  think  I  have  found  a  way — at 
least,  the  way  within  my  reach — of  help- 
ing some. 

"  I  have  a  plan  to  ask  you  to  work  out 
with  me,  which  may  be  a  means  to  help 
some  at  least  to  climb  the  high  ladder  of  the 
33 


THE    STONE    OF    DESTINY 

social  scale,  acquiring  as  they  ascend  abil- 
ity, intelligence,  and  justice. 

"  It  is  our  ladder  as  well  as  theirs,  but 
our  part  at  the  top  is  less  important  than 
theirs  at  the  bottom — the  foundation  of  the 
structure. 

"  Right  here,  in  this  country  around  us, 
in  the  village  at  our  gates,  there  are  boys 
and  girls  eager  to  work,  ignorant  of  what 
should  be  the  base  of  their  toil.  I  want  to 
start  a  school  in  which  each  may  learn  to 
know  the  use  of  the  tool  for  which  he  is 
fitted,  as  well  as  to  acquire  a  fundamental 
education,  thus  giving  them  a  chance — an 
equal  chance — to  work  and  to  enjoy.  The 
teaching  should  be  so  directed  that  it  may 
bring  ambition  and  appreciation  into  the 
earning  of  the  daily  and  necessary  bread. 

"  There  must  always  be  workers,  as 
society  is  established  in  our  civilization, 


THE    STONE    OF    DESTINY 

and  it  is  the  duty  of  those  who  see  not  only 
to  feel  but  to  endeavor,  to  the  utmost  of 
their  understanding  and  to  the  limit  of 
their  power,  to  make  labor  as  it  should  be. 
This  school  shall  give  its  scholars  the  edu- 
cation conducive  to  intelligence  in  what- 
ever walk  of  life  they  may  be  born.  Not 
the  sort  of  half-learning  such  as  the  Rus- 
sian soldier  acquires,  and  which  breeds 
anarchy  and  hatred  in  the  mists  of  un- 
stable thoughts,  but  the  kind  of  knowledge 
which  shall  show  this  young  generation 
how  to  spread  peace  over  the  earth.  The 
fathers  and  mothers  are  not  of  my  time, 
but  their  children  are;  in  their  little  hands 
lies  war  or  peace ;  and  I  want  to  show  them 
why  peace  is  the  solution  of  all  things,  for 
their  sake  as  well  as  for  ours. 

"  In  previous   centuries   man's   energies 
have  been  devoted  to  finding  and  using  for 


THE   STONE   OF   DESTINY 

himself  the  treasures  of  Nature's  store- 
house ;  in  the  present,  Science's  wonderland 
of  logic  has  opened;  may  not  its  benefits 
accrue  to  universal  brotherhood? 

"  You  cannot  help  humanity  by  gifts, 
for  men  and  women  do  not  want,  do  not 
need,  and  will  not  value  what  is  theirs  for 
nothing. 

"  And  it  is  useless  to  feel  for  the  work- 
ers if  you  do  not  put  your  own  shoul- 
der to  the  wheel.  I  have  been  dreaming 
long  enough;  now  is  the  hour  to  do,  and 
you  shall  share  the  duty  and  the  privi- 
lege." 

All  the  time  Theodor  spoke  Margaret 
matched  his  face  and  marvelled  at  his 
words.  Timidly  she  answered. 

"  I  fear  you  will  be  disappointed  in  me, 
Theodor;  I  would  not  know  how  to  help; 
I  have  never  even  thought  or  cared  whose 
36 


THE   STONE    OF    DESTINY 

fingers  sewed  my  frocks,  provided  they 
were  pretty. 

"But,"  she  added,  prettily,  "I  love 
you,  and  will  try." 

"  There  are  three  kinds  of  women  in 
this  world,  Margaret,"  he  continued. 
"  The  most  prevalent  type  is  of  what  I 
call  shadow  -  women,  who  drift  over  the 
world,  and,  never  touching  the  earth,  can- 
not know  its  joys  nor  feel  its  sorrows; 
they  come  and  go  and  might  as  well  have 
never  been.  The  second  is  of  those  who 
find  great  happiness,  and  from  that  derive 
the  stimulus  to  seek  their  vocation  and 
fulfil  it.  The  third  and  rarest  is  of  those 
who  meet  and  travel  with  great  sorrow,  and 
in  their  aching  hearts  find  their  oppor- 
tunity. 

"  Not  always  are  the  women  who  stand 
upon  the  mountain-sides  of  history,  as  did 
4  37 


THE    STONE    OF    DESTINY 

Madame  Roland  and  her  kind,  the  ones 
who  accomplish  the  best  work.  Sometimes 
by  the  fireside  in  the  small  home  the  mother 
breathes  into  her  children's  ears  that  which 
shall  awaken  their  gift  and  make  them 
great  upon  the  summits  of  humanity." 

It  seemed  to  Margaret  as  though  she 
were  struggling  against  an  overwhelming 
force — known,  and  yet  beyond  her  under- 
standing. Something  prompted  her  to 
speak.  Perhaps  it  was  her  self  striving 
for  expression  in  spite  of  the  environment 
stifling  its  existence. 

"  Theodor,  shall  this  bring  us  happi- 
ness? I  love  you  now  as  I  loved  you  the 
first  moment  I  saw  you.  But  I  feel  now, 
as  I  have  often  felt  during  these  years, 
as  if  I  were  living  under  an  enchant- 
ment. Not  the  enchantment  of  love  en- 
tirely, but  as  if  the  power  of  your  per- 
38 


THE    STONE    OF    DESTINY 

sonality  overwhelmed  mine.  I  can't  ex- 
press my  meaning  as  I  wish.  It  seems  as 
though  I  feared  you  as  much  as  I  loved 
you.  The  effort  it  caused  me  to  make 
when  I  endeavored  to  understand  your  let- 
ters, and  this  strange  love  you  have  for  me, 
prevented  my  answers  from  ringing  true 
when  I  read  them  over.  Now  that  you  are 
with  me,  close  to  me,  as  you  sometimes  were 
when  you  wrote,  something  melts  within 
me,  and  all  seems  easy  and  natural." 

"  Dear  Margaret " — and  he  kissed  her 
questioning  eyes  very  tenderly  — "  you 
must  not  worry  over  imaginary  troubles. 

"  Real  sorrows  will  come  soon  enough 
of  their  own  accord,  without  our  summons, 
and  those  we  shall  share  as  we  turn  the 
handle  of  the  great  wheel  of  life  together. 

"  This  is  our  beginning,  yours  and  mine. 
Let  it  be  full  to  overflowing  of  all  this 
39 


THE    STONE    OF    DESTINY 

hour  may  mean.  To-day  we  stand  upon 
the  threshold.  Leave  your  dear  hand  in 
mine,  and  walk  into  the  real  future,  as 
you  have  in  the  imaginary  past,  as  my 
beloved  companion." 

Theodor's  wonderful  voice,  full  of  music 
and  pathos  and  love,  pleaded  his  cause  far 
more  effectively  than  the  words  he  spoke. 

Margaret  took  a  long  breath,  and,  smil- 
ing, gave  him  both  her  hands.  "  Are  you 
making  my  will  yours?  I  fear  so.  If  I 
become  you  and  cease  to  be  me,  what 
will  happen  to  both  of  us?  If  love  is  all, 
there  is  no  doubt,  and  doubt  is  here,"  she 
said,  laying  her  hand  on  her  breast. 

"  Love  and  doubt,"  he  replied,  "  have 
always  dwelt  together  in  the  young.  Doubt 
is  the  shadow  of  love,  which  we  see  in  the 
early  morning  of  knowledge.  In  the  noon- 
hour,  when  the  sun  has  reached  the  merid- 
40 


THE    STONE    OF    DESTINY 

ian,  there  is  no  shadow,  but  unfortunately 
it  sometimes  haunts  us  again  before  the 
peace  of  the  twilight  and  the  silence  of 
the  night." 

He  spoke  wearily.  The  girl  looked  even 
more  lovely  than  the  vision  he  carried  in 
his  heart,  but  she  spoke  a  different  lan- 
guage. For  a  moment  a  foreboding  of 
evil  clouded  his  brow.  Then  all  she  had 
grown  to  be  to  him,  and  her  marvellous 
beauty,  erased  the  question.  He  took 
from  his  watch-chain  a  thin,  gold  circle, 
quaintly  wrought  and  set  with  tiny  brill- 
iants. He  kissed  it,  and,  placing  it  on  her 
little  finger,  looked  into  her  face  with  all 
his  love  shining  from  his  eyes. 

On  the  instant  the  vision  which  had 
dwelt  three  years  within  his  breast  van- 
ished from  its  sanctuary,  and  he  saw  it 
in  the  gaze  of  the  woman  as  she  clasped 
41 


THE    STONE   OF    DESTINY 

her  arms  around  his  neck  and  gave  her 
first  caress. 

The  wish  he  had  breathed  as  he  gave  her 
the  ring  had  been  fulfilled. 

The  first  day  they  spent  together  far 
away  in  the  great  forest.  The  hours  glided 
by  peacefully  in  those  green  depths. 
Sometimes  they  spoke,  but  more  often  the 
silence  of  love  laid  its  gentle  spell  upon 
their  hearts;  and  they  knew  of  no  other 
world  beyond. 

In  the  afternoon  shadows  they  walked 
home  together,  hand-in-hand,  and  spent 
the  evening  by  Theodora's  side.  The  joy 
of  their  day  was  in  their  hearts,  and  the 
mother  saw  it  and  understood  and  wel- 
comed her  son's  love  into  her  own  breast. 

They  spoke  of  many  things,  and  the 
spirit  of  Theodora's  great  soul  dominated 
them  as  had  the  soft  murmurs  of  the  woods. 
42 


THE    STONE    OF    DESTINY 

The  second  day  Margaret  and  Theodor 
sailed  down  the  river  together,  by  the 
flower-gardens  and  the  cornfields,  under 
the  willow-trees  and  through  the  water- 
lilies.  They  yielded  to  the  fulness  of  the 
beauty  of  the  corn-god  as  they  had  felt  the 
strength  of  the  wild  growth  of  the  forest. 

And  the  second  evening  passed  on  the 
terrace  under  the  stars,  while  Theodora 
told  Margaret  of  Theodor's  work  and  of 
his  future. 

It  was  all  fairy-land  to  Margaret.  She 
was  living  in  it  too  completely  to  measure 
the  difference  between  her  small  self  and 
their  great  hopes. 

The  third  morning  she  waited  for  him, 
and  he  could  not  come,  so  she  went  alone 
out  into  the  fields.  The  sky  was  gray ;  the 
clouds  were  heavy  with  the  coming  rain; 
the  river  in  the  distance  was  the  color  of 
43 


THE   STONE   OF   DESTINY 

ashes;  and  Margaret's  heart  contracted. 
The  glamour  of  those  last  days  seemed  to 
shrink  and  vanish  from  within  her,  and 
there  in  her  soul  lay  the  same  doubt.  She 
stood  still  and  opened  her  eyes  wide,  as 
though  to  see  through  her  Liebesrausch ; 
and  perhaps  because  it  was  of  yesterday 
and  not  of  to-day,  the  perspective  of 
reason  was  restored. 

Coolly,  calmly,  she  marshalled  her  facts 
and  surveyed  this  fine,  strong  love  of  his 
as  though  it  were  within  the  grasp  of  her 
hands,  for  only  the  tangible  part  did  she 
comprehend.  She  weighed  her  feeling 
against  his;  she  calculated  the  results  for 
her  if  she  yielded  to  the  strange,  almost 
hypnotic,  power  his  presence  wielded  over 
her.  Clearly  she  saw  it  was  but  a  half- 
love,  this  passion  he  awakened — more  child 
of  his  creation  than  of  hers. 
44s 


THE    STONE   OF    DESTINY 

There  was  yet  time;  she  was  still  pos- 
sessed of  the  strength  of  resistance;  she 
would  write  to  him  and  bid  him  go  out  of 
her  life. 

Slowly  she  turned  down  the  lane  which 
led  to  her  own  home.  How  short  the  road 
seemed! — for  the  struggle  waged  within 
her.  The  voice  of  the  hours  in  the  woods 
called  to  her;  but  she  would  not  listen  to 
its  pleading.  The  fragrance  of  the  breezes 
from  the  river  sought  to  penetrate  her 
heart;  but  she  closed  the  barriers  against 
their  memories. 

Common-sense  rose  up  and  led  her  to  the 
accomplishment  of  her  resolve. 

She  went  to  her  own  room.  She  took 
her  writing-tablet  over  to  the  window,  and, 
drawing  a  chair  close  against  the  sill,  she 
wrote  good-bye. 

Perhaps  the  past  was  wafted  through 
45 


THE    STONE    OF    DESTINY 

the  window  in  the  golden  light  of  the  set- 
ting sun  as  it  dispelled  the  dreary  clouds; 
perhaps  to-day  was  very  near  to  yesterday, 
for  Margaret's  letter  was  full  of  sadness, 
and  the  murmur  of  the  forest  leaves  was 
in  the  gentleness  of  what  she  wrote. 


>BOUT  a  month  later,  one 
bright  afternoon  in  June, 
Theodora  had  invited  her  ac- 
quaintances of  the  neighbor- 
hood to  a  garden-party.  The  lawn  was  a 
mass  of  colors ;  laughing  and  talking,  men 
and  women  were  gathered  in  groups  under 
the  old  oak-trees  and  on  the  terrace  and  in 
the  gardens. 

A  band  was  playing  languorously,  pas- 
sionately, somewhere  out  of  sight. 

Margaret  came  late,  and  from  the  ter- 
race steps  she  saw  the  panorama  of  the 
ever-changing  scene  as  her  eyes  sought  the 
lithe    and    graceful    form    of    Theodora, 
47 


THE   STONE    OF    DESTINY 

which  must  be  somewhere  among  her 
guests.  Presently  Margaret  recognized 
her  in  the  distance  and  started  down  the 
steps.  She  was  very  lovely  in  her  soft, 
blue  gown  and  big,  black  hat  as  she  wound 
her  way  around  the  tea-tables  and  by  the 
gayly  talking  people,  looking  neither  to 
the  right  nor  to  the  left,  walking  swift- 
ly, as  was  her  custom,  until  she  reached 
the  table  at  which  Theodora  was  pouring 
tea. 

As  she  was  greeting  her  hostess,  Mar- 
garet suddenly  saw  Theodor  at  the  next 
table.  The  realization  that  he  was  there 
within  reach  of  her  hand  had  scarcely 
driven  a  burning  blush  over  her  face  when 
her  eyes  met  his.  For  an  instant  there  was 
the  silence  of  death  in  Margaret's  whole 
being — the  world  had  ceased!  Then  the 
clatter  of  the  teacups,  the  chatter  of  the 
48 


THE    STONE    OF    DESTINY 

voices,  and  the  strains  of  the  music  sounded 
deafening  in  her  ears. 

"  What  is  it,  Margaret?  Are  you  ill?" 
asked  Theodora. 

"No  —  no;  only  a  little  faint.  The 
sun  is  quite  warm,"  and  as  she  answered, 
both  women  felt  the  silence  at  Theodor's 
table. 

Mechanically,  Margaret  took  off  her 
gloves  and  looked  at  the  small  diamond 
circle  she  wore  on  her  little  finger.  Theo- 
dor  had  wished  it  on,  before  their  parting, 
and  she  had  worn  it  ever  since.  A  vista  of 
deep  happiness  opened  in  her  memory  of 
that  day,  and  all  he  had  said,  and  how 
tenderly  he  had  said  it,  nearly  persuading 
her  with  his  passionate  voice  that  she  loved 
him  as  she  knew  he  loved  her. 

"  Can  you  arrange  to  go  into  the  city 
with  me  some  day  next  week?  There  is 
49 


THE   STONE    OF    DESTINY 

to  be  an  exhibition  of  wonderful  pictures, 
which  I  want  you  to  see." 

Theodora's  voice,  as  she  asked  the  ques- 
tion, sounded  far  away;  but  with  one  of 
those  masterful  efforts,  possible,  at  certain 
moments,  even  to  the  weakest  woman,  Mar- 
garet controlled  herself  and  answered : 

"  Yes ;  I  can  go  any  day.  I  want  to  see 
those  paintings,  and  I  particularly  want 
to  see  them  with  you.  Art  means  every- 
thing to  me  when  you  explain  it.  When 
I  am  alone  it  is  all  so  flat  and  lifeless." 

"  Because  you  are  young,  dear  Mar- 
garet, and  youth  craves  giving  as  well  as 
taking,"  said  Theodora,  gently.  "  Look- 
ing at  the  greatest  painting  or  reading  the 
strongest  book  cannot  give  complete  satis- 
faction to  those  who  are  youthful  enough 
to  face  the  future.  Youth  must  give.  It 
is  the  same  in  our  relations  with  people. 
50 


THE   STONE    OF   DESTINY 

To  some,  one  is  continually  giving,  ex- 
hausting one's  personality;  from  others, 
always  taking.  But  in  either  case  one 
wearies,  and  love  or  friendship  is  only  pos- 
sible for  any  length  of  time  when  these  two 
qualities  are  evenly  balanced. 

"  Often  the  most  promising  marriages 
are  wretched  failures  only  because  the 
husband  reacts  on  the  wife.  At  first  his 
infatuation  deceives  him  into  seeing  an- 
other, tangible  being  in  what  is  merely 
the  reflection  of  a  part  of  his  personality ; 
presently,  when  the  mirror  into  which  he 
looks  blurs  or  cracks,  or  even  breaks,  he 
sees  the  phantom  of  his  happiness  vanish. 

"But  you  have  no  such  thoughts  as 
these  to  bother  you,  for  you  have  youth, 
and  you  are  walking  in  its  glorious  king- 
dom. I  am  an  older  woman,  to  whom  you 
give  some  of  the  brilliancy  of  the  morning 
51 


THE    STONE    OF    DESTINY 

in  return  for  a  little  moralizing.  That  is 
why  we  are  friends,  you  and  I,  and  I  hope 
we  always  shall  be,"  Theodora  concluded. 

"  You  should  have  been  a  man,"  answer- 
ed Margaret,  "  for  your  vitality  needs  no 
incentive.  You  have  something  to  give; 
your  virility  electrifies  everything  you 
touch." 

"  The  man's  part  is  far  beyond  my 
strength,  for  man  should  create  from  every 
obstacle  through  which  he  has  to  pass. 
The  genius  is  he  who  conquers  circum- 
stances, finding  material  in  each  to  work 
with,  compelling  everything  to  yield  its 
possibility  for  further  achievement,"  Theo- 
dora spoke  sternly. 

"  To   react  —  to  be  a   reflection.      Yet 
some  of  us  find  happiness  even  living  in  a 
mirror."     Margaret  paused,  for  Theodor 
left  his  table  and  came  towards  her. 
52 


THE   STONE    OF    DESTINY 

"  How  well  you  look !  It  is  such  a  long 
time  since  I  have  seen  you,"  he  said,  with 
that  wonderful  voice  which  always  seemed 
to  reach  the  depths  of  her  nature. 

"  How  did  you  expect  me  to  look — like 
a  faded  flower  of  last  summer?"  she  an- 
swered, lightly. 

Theodor  laughed — with  his  lips ;  but  his 
glance  was  penetrating,  earnest,  and  she 
knew  he  saw  her  hands  tremble  and  read 
his  mastery  of  her  in  her  flushing  cheeks 
and  shining  eyes.  Then,  still  smiling,  he 
bowed  and  left  her.  He  had  seen  what 
she  had  vainly  endeavored  to  conceal. 

Margaret  resumed  her  conversation  with 
Theodora,  but  after  a  few  minutes  she  could 
play  her  part  no  longer,  and  she  said : 

"  If  you  don't  mind,  I'll  leave  you,  for 
I  see  a  friend  of  mine  over  under  the  trees 
in  the  corner,  and  I  must  speak  to  her." 
53  s 


THE   STONE   OF   DESTINY 

Theodora  said  she  would  see  to  her 
guests,  expecting  Margaret  to  wait  until 
they  had  gone. 

Margaret  knew  that  Theodor  was  watch- 
ing her,  and  she  wondered  whether  he 
thought  she  looked  well  in  her  new  gown, 
which  was  made  in  the  simple  style  he  ad- 
mired. 

She  crossed  the  lawn  and  the  gardens 
and  walked  into  the  forest — the  wonderful 
forest,  which  seemed  the  virgin  force  of 
Nature  ever  ready  to  eliminate  from  con- 
sideration the  works  of  man,  its  stern,  tall 
trees  keeping  watch  around  the  castle  and 
its  gardens,  secure  in  the  knowledge  that 
some  day  their  living  branches  would  shade 
the  decaying  ruins  of  what  man  had  erect- 
ed in  his  pride,  and  the  vast  wilderness 
would  reign  again  in  peace.  The  leaves 
were  whispering  to  one  another  of  patience 
54 


THE   STONE    OF    DESTINY 

and  of  the  endless  resurrection  of  spring- 
time and  of  their  power  to  outlive  most 
things,  even  though  they,  too,  must  event- 
ually obey  the  final  law  of  universal  death. 

Margaret  walked  down  the  wide  avenue 
of  fragrant  acacia-trees  and  through  the 
narrow  path  of  cedars.  Continually  each 
turn  brought  another  vision  of  herself  and 
Theodor  walking  there  at  noon,  at  dusk, 
at  night.  It  was  over,  ended,  finished. 
She  and  Theodor  had  parted  at  her  re- 
quest. She  had  known,  in  spite  of  his 
irresistible,  passionate  words,  that  she  had 
not  felt  as  he  did.  She  had  realized 
vaguely  that  he  was  too  big  of  heart,  too 
strong  of  nature,  for  her  to  marry. 

Every  word  of  the  letter  she  had  written 
to  him  hurt  her  as  she  remembered  the  sen- 
tences : 

"  Before  Chance  or  Destiny  brings  us  to- 
55 


THE   STONE   OF    DESTINY 

gether  again  upon  the  road  of  life,  I  must 
stretch  out  my  hand  to  you  and  bid  you 
meet  me  as  your  friend.  .  .  .  Love  such 
as  yours  I  cannot  find  within  my  heart  to 
give.  .  .  .  Good-bye.  I  have  no  courage 
for  further  words.  I  know  you  under- 
stand." 

And  yet  to-day  she  almost  felt  as  she 
knew  he  felt.  She  hated  the  calculating 
instinct  which  had  compelled  her  to  break 
from  him. 

She  wanted  him.  She  wanted  to  feel  his 
arms  around  her,  his  kisses  on  her  face — 
those  kisses  soft  as  the  fluttering  of  birds' 
wings  against  her  cheek. 

What  did  it  matter,  this  career  of  his? 
She  could  fill  his  youth.  He  might  even 
help  her  to  see  the  strange,  unknown  treas- 
ures  he  seemed  to  find  in  the  colors  of  the 
sunlight,  in  the  shadows  of  the  woods. 
56 


THE    STONE    OF    DESTINY 

She  turned  back  in  the  direction  of  the 
house.  She  would  send  for  him,  ask  him 
to  come  and  walk  along  the  river  with  her, 
and  tell  him  her  letter  was  all  a  mistake; 
that  love  was  life  and  sorrow  was  duty. 

And  his  ambition — what  would  become 
of  that?  Again  she  turned,  this  time  tow- 
ards the  river. 

No — it  was  best  to  leave  matters  as  they 
were.  He  would  go  on  without  her;  and 
she — well,  she  was  young,  and  the  present 
meant  less  to  her  than  the  future. 

To  play  the  game  squarely  had  always 
been  her  pride.  She  knew  that  the  half- 
value  of  her  awakened  passion  would  surely 
crush  the  fulness  of  his  powers.  So  Mar- 
garet walked  along  slowly  under  the 
spreading  branches,  thankful  for  the 
pleasure  she  derived  from  the  fragrance 
of  the  acacia  blossoms. 
57 


THE    STONE    OF    DESTINY 

After  all,  Theodor  was  but  an  incident, 
disturbing,  uncontrollable,  but  yet  only  an 
incident.  Margaret  began  to  plan  another 
future  for  herself  with  another  sort  of 
hero. 

"  Margaret !"  Theodor's  voice  sounded 
close  behind  her,  but  she  thought  it  was 
only  ringing  in  her  fancy. 

"  Margaret !"  and  Theodor  touched  her 
arm. 

"  Margaret,  let  us  forget  your  letter. 
Remember,  instead,  what  you  said  to  me 
the  day  I  gave  you  the  ring  which  I  saw 
to-day  on  your  trembling  hand.  Come 
with  me,  listen  to  me,  for  love  is  here,  and 
we  have  but  to  take  it  into  our  hearts." 

Margaret  turned  and  faced  him,  but 
she  did  not  meet  his  glance  as  she  said: 

"  Now  I  know,  indeed,  how  young  you 
are.  An  older  man  would  have  reflected 
58 


THE   STONE   OF   DESTINY 

before  heeding  the  impulse  to  seek  me, 
and  probably  would  have  spent  the  after- 
noon in  wise  analysis  of  the  situation  with- 
out stirring  from  his  comfortable  chair." 

"  And  because  I  am  young,  I  love  you 
all  the  more.  You  are  the  first  woman  in 
my  life,  and  I  want  you  to  be  the  only 
one." 

Again  she  felt  the  spell  of  his  magnetic 
voice  paralyzing  her  will.  He  laid  his 
hand  upon  hers  and  her  heart  melted  with- 
in her. 

"  Perhaps — some  day — " 

"  Come  now !"  he  interrupted. 

Margaret  left  her  hand  in  his,  and  they 
walked  slowly  towards  the  house. 


VI 

fcHEODOR  led  his  bride  to  the 
stern  of  the  boat  under  the 
awning's  shade.  There  they 
stood,  side  by  side,  watching 
their  gardens  and  their  village  pass  and 
vanish.  He  raised  her  beautiful  face  be- 
tween his  palms,  and  said,  simply,  softly, 
almost  reverently, 

"  Thank  you,  my  wife,  for  giving  me 
your  life  and  your  beauty." 

Margaret's  eyelids  dropped  contentedly, 
but  there  was  no  answer  in  her  mind — only 
a  remembrance  of  what  somewhere,  some- 
time, she  had  read,  as,  with  her  eyes  still 
closed,  she  murmured : 
60 


THE    STONE    OF    DESTINY 

"'I  am  my  beloved's, 

And  my  beloved  is  mine: 

He  feedeth  his  flock  among  the  lilies.' " 

And  then  neither  spoke  again,  for  the 
peace  of  love  lay  in  their  hearts  while  the 
hour  held  their  souls  captive. 

Presently  Theodor  spoke  again: 
"  I  wish  the  air  were  full  of  melody 
which  we  might  breathe  in  with  the  sun- 
shine, as  if  Nature  were  ringing  out  an 
anthem  of  love  for  your  spirit  and  for 
mine." 

And  Margaret  softly  sang: 

"'La-bas,  la-bas,  si  tu  m'aimais,  SUP  ton  cheval  tu 
me  prendrais !' " 

"  Even  better  the  deep  and  noble  music 
of  Isolde  ringing  from  the  heavens,"  he 
answered,  gently. 

And  again  they  were  silent,  her  heart 
full  to  overflowing  of  a  happiness  for 
61 


THE    STONE    OF    DESTINY 

which  she  sought  no  expression:  he  think- 
ing he  had  found  what  he  sought  in  her 
gaze,  and  she  feeling  his  kisses  on  her  hair. 
They  reached  the  castle  at  nightfall,  and 
she  walked  like  one  in  slumber,  conscious 
only  of  Theodor's  arm,  guiding  her  up  a 
steep,  paved  path,  over  a  bridge,  into  a 
great,  dark  hall. 

Theodor  dreamt  that  night  that  he  was 
standing  in  the  centre  of  a  huge,  golden 
flower  with  roots  under  the  earth  and  petals 
reaching  to  the  skies.  He  found  himself 
involuntarily  turning  aside  the  large  leaves, 
eagerly  searching  for  something  he  had 
lost.  The  heavy  perfume  emanating  from 
the  pores  suffocated  him.  On  he  pushed, 
through  the  forest  of  golden  leaves,  and 
each  petal  was  like  the  one  he  had  passed ; 
and  the  longer  he  searched  the  more  pow- 
62 


THE    STONE    OF    DESTINY 

erful  grew  the  perfume.  At  last  he  reach- 
ed the  edge  of  the  flower.  The  whole  world 
lay  beneath  him.  He  could  not  see  dis- 
tinctly at  first,  because  the  shadow  of  the 
leaves  lay  across  the  earth,  between  him 
and  the  sunlight,  while  the  scent  of  the 
flower  seemed  to  cloud  the  landscape  as  in 
a  mist. 

The  more  intently  he  gazed  the  more 
distinct  grew  each  mountain,  each  river; 
and  the  outline  of  the  cities  lay  sharply  de- 
fined against  the  horizon. 

"  There !  and  there !  and  there !"  his  soul 
cried  out,  for  what  he  had  vainly  sought  in 
the  beauty  of  the  flower  he  saw  shimmering 
on  the  plains,  glistening  upon  the  rivers, 
shining  from  the  mountains. 

No  longer  was  he  standing  above  on  the 
edge  of  the  flower.  The  breezes  had  cleared 
away  the  scented  mists.  In  the  midst  of 
63 


THE   STONE    OF    DESTINY 

the  human  struggle  the  magic  spell  of  his 
enchantment  was  forgotten. 

But  when  he  awoke  the  flower  lay  in  his 
arms  and  his  eyes  were  blinded  by  its 
beauty. 

So  Theodor  lived  in  his  dream,  a  willing 
prisoner  of  love. 

The  days  accumulated  into  weeks  and 
months;  the  land  of  pleasure  encompassed 
those  two,  and  neither  thought  of  looking 
to  the  morrow. 

In  the  course  of  time  a  boy  and  a  girl 
were  born  to  them,  but  Margaret  pushed 
them  away  from  her,  fearful  lest  their 
little  hands  should  touch  and  awaken  her 
husband's  heart,  whose  strength  fright- 
ened her.  She  knew  the  hour  must  come 
when  Love  could  no  longer  rock  Ambi- 
tion to  sleep.  Every  serious  thought 
was  eliminated  from  their  life.  For 
64 


THE    STONE    OF    DESTINY 

three  years  one  quality  of  happiness  was 
theirs. 

But  unbidden  guests  crept  in  and  sat  at 
their  feast.  Understanding  yielded  her 
place  to  her  enemy,  Doubt,  while  Love  grew 
pale  in  the  withering  presence  of  Satiety ; 
Passion  was  no  longer  restrained  by  In- 
tellect, and  the  final  hour  of  the  dream  was 
tolled  by  Destiny. 

Then  Margaret  walked  with  Sorrow,  for 
Theodor's  soul  stirred  and  awoke  in  judg- 
ment. Endless,  lonely  days  dragged  by, 
and  weary  nights  found  their  spirits  wan- 
dering far  into  widely  different  worlds. 


VII 

fOMETHING  jarred  during 
their  drive  one  afternoon,  and 
as  they  reached  the  house  each 
felt  relief.  Not  once  while 
they  were  passing  along  the  river  and 
through  the  woods  and  under  the  wind- 
blown clouds  had  they  seen  the  beauty  of 
the  ever-changing  landscape  or  felt  the 
magic  of  the  sky  in  unison. 

Theodor  had  spoken  of  what  he  saw  in 
it  all,  of  what  it  meant  to  him,  gently  at 
first,  and  then  more  and  more  powerfully, 
for  his  imagination  was  aroused  by  the 
grandeur  of  the  scene.  He  seemed  to  be- 
come part  of  it,  to  be  absorbed  into  it, 
66 


THE   STONE   OF    DESTINY 

away  from  her.  He  was  the  voice,  the 
prism  through  which  the  mystery  of  Nature 
separated  into  a  thousand  truths.  He 
poured  forth  in  words  to  the  woman  he 
loved  all  of  that  which  until  now  had  found 
expression  only  in  his  paintings.  Shyly 
at  first,  and  then  earnestly,  bravely,  force- 
fully, he  spoke  the  truth  within  him. 

He  told  her  of  the  completed  school- 
house  in  the  valley  yonder,  of  how  he  had 
worked  out  each  detail  and  chosen  each 
teacher  for  merit  and  kindness  of  heart 
first  and  for  erudition  afterwards. 

His  intent  was  to  seek  and  find  the  in- 
stinctive vocation  of  each  child,  to  awaken, 
foster,  stimulate,  and  help  whatever  lay  in 
his  heart  or  his  mind  or  his  hand. 

To-morrow  the  doors  would  open;  to- 
morrow was  the  beginning;  to-morrow  he 
and  Margaret  were  to  start  their  life-work. 
67 


THE   STONE  OF  DESTINY 

Then  he  paused  for  her  answer. 

And  the  answer  did  not  come.  Margaret 
was  bewildered,  overwhelmed  by  the  tor- 
rent of  his  word-pictures  of  what  she 
could  not  understand. 

She  tried  to  comprehend,  but  she  could 
not ;  so,  as  her  eyes  met  the  expectant,  eager 
look  in  his,  she  turned  her  head  away  and 
said  no  word.  Neither  did  Theodor.  The 
fire  faded  from  his  eyes,  the  vision  van- 
ished from  his  imagination,  the  heavy  hand 
of  Fate  seemed  to  press  the  joy  from  his 
heart. 

When  Margaret  turned  away  her  head 
he  knew  he  was  alone. 

They  were  a  long  way  from  home,  and 
during  that  endless  hour  Theodor  fought 
his  first  disappointment  in  the  agony  of 
shaken  faith  in  her  to  whom  he  had 
given  his  love.  He  could  not  bear  to  face 
68 


THE    STONE    OF    DESTINY 

the  truth  that  he  had  clothed  Margaret's 
nature  in  a  robe  in  which  he  had  set  all  the 
jewels  he  yearned  for,  and  that  when  he 
touched  the  garment  to  raise  it  to  his  lips — 
there  was  no  texture  in  his  hands. 

The  woman  by  his  side  was  full  of  sad- 
ness, too.  She  was  keen  to  know  her  si- 
lence had  annoyed  him,  but  why  it  should 
have  grieved  him  was  beyond  her  under- 
standing. 

She  wondered  whether  her  hair  lay  in 
the  folds  he  liked,  and,  raising  her  veil, 
looked  at  herself  critically  in  the  mirror  of 
her  chatelaine.  Then  she  took  out  her 
watch  to  see  how  long  they  had  been  driv- 
ing. The  fact  that  she  must  sit  still  grew 
irksome  to  her.  His  silence  first  irritated 
then  mortified  her.  She  wanted  to  cry  out, 
to  scream  at  this  quiet  man  sitting  in  the 
carriage. 

6  69 


At  last  the  house  was  reached,  and  she 
rushed  to  her  room,  locked  the  door,  and 
threw  herself  upon  the  rug  in  front  of 
the  fire,  sobbing  out  her  wounded  vanity 
and  loneliness  in  a  frenzy  of  self-com- 
miseration. Presently  the  sobs  subsided 
and  the  tears  came  less  rebelliously,  but 
even  their  gentleness  could  not  clear  away 
the  mist  enveloping  her  brain. 

She  raised  her  head  and  looked  at  the 
burning  logs.  The  flames  seemed  to  dis- 
tort themselves  into  jeering,  living,  talk- 
ing thoughts.  Margaret  felt  like  one  con- 
templating the  panorama  of  her  own  life. 
One  imp  pointed  with  sneering  finger  to 
the  picture  of  her  married  life  she  had 
painted  for  herself  on  her  wedding-day, 
and  compared  it  with  the  duller,  darker 
likeness  of  what  it  had  proved  to  be.  A 
deriding  vixen,  which  she  dimly  recognized 
70 


THE    STONE    OF    DESTINY 

to  be  her  conscience,  began  to  turn  back- 
ward the  leaves  of  a  book,  recording  her 
life  with  Theodor.  There  was  no  writing 
on  the  pages,  only  her  own  face  over  and 
over.  The  vixen  grinned  and  turned  the 
leaves  the  other  way,  and,  even  looking 
into  the  future,  Margaret  could  detect 
nothing  but  her  own  countenance  imprinted 
upon  page  after  page. 

She  closed  her  eyes  to  shut  out  the 
vision,  but  the  fire  was  burning  within  her 
head,  and  the  vixen  was  her  own  soul  point- 
ing its  long,  thin,  jibing  fingers  at  her 
heart. 

The  room  had  become  dark ;  the  fire  was 
nearly  extinguished. 

Margaret  got  up  from  the  rug,  turning 

towards    the    door   which    opened    on   the 

balcony.     She  saw  the  stars  shining  in  the 

sky.    She  remembered  how  in  her  childhood 

71 


THE   STONE    OF    DESTINY 

her  old  nurse  had  told  her  of  the  cold,  lit- 
tle, silver  fairies  who  dwelt  in  the  stars  and 
were  sometimes  moved  to  send  their  sooth- 
ing rays  upon  the  fever-tossed  and  suffer- 
ing who  pray  to  them  for  aid. 

She  walked  out  on  the  balcony  and  look- 
ed up  into  the  unfathomable  depths  of  that 
ungirdled  universe  which  she  could  not 
comprehend. 

She  half  believed  there  was  a  God  up 
there,  somewhere  among  those  stars.  She 
prayed  to  Him  with  all  her  strength-  for 
happiness.  But  there  was  no  God  in  the 
firmament  to  answer  her.  The  night 
frightened  and  awed  her  poor  little  soul, 
and  she  turned  back  into  her  room. 

The  darkness  seemed  to  have  filled  the 
corners  with  strange  shadows,  and  Marga- 
ret was  afraid  to  be  alone  with  them.  She 
went  to  the  door  which  separated  her  room 
72 


THE   STONE   OF    DESTINY 

from  Theodor's  and  laid  her  hand  on  the 
handle.  Even  if  she  was  apart  from  his 
soul,  she  wanted  the  companionship  of  his 
being.  She  pushed  the  door  open  and 
entered  the  adjoining  room.  The  lamps 
were  not  lit,  and  Margaret  could  distin- 
guish little  in  the  sombreness.  She  felt 
Theodor's  presence,  as  she  always  did ;  then 
she  saw  him  leaning  against  the  window. 
The  river  flowed  silently  beneath  it.  He 
was  watching  the  lights  on  the  boats  drift- 
ing slowly  by.  They  loomed  out  of  the 
darkness  and  passed  on  into  the  darkness; 
and  Theodor  seemed  as  one  who  saw  them 
as  souls,  endlessly  coming,  endlessly  going, 
giving  nothing,  taking  little  besides  the 
privilege  of  sailing  over  the  dark  waters  of 
the  River  of  Life. 

He  heard  Margaret's  step  and  turned 
towards  her.     She  crossed  the  room  to  him 
73 


THE    STONE    OF    DESTINY 

with  outstretched  hands  and  hungry  eyes, 
She  did  not  see  the  river  nor  the  lights; 
she  saw  only  her  husband's  eyes  and  his 
firm,  red  lips.  She  locked  her  arms  around 
his  neck,  closing  her  warm,  young  mouth  on 
his;  and  for  that  moment  he  and  she  were 
one. 


VIII 

the  next   morning   found 
T>  <^jfthem  again  far  apart.     Theo- 
dor  was  shy  of  speaking  of  his 


work  to  Margaret,  while  she, 
dreading  that  he  might  refer  to  it,  was  ill 
at  ease  and  silent. 

So  he  left  her  and  spent  the  forenoon  at 
his  easel.  It  was  the  picture  of  a  great 
lake  and  a  woman  stretched  upon  the  moss 
and  ferns  near  the  edge  of  the  water — the 
outline  of  a  hill  in  the  distance,  sharply  de- 
fined against  a  golden  sky,  in  which  the 
sunset  had  left  a  pale,  lingering  memory  of 
its  gorgeous  passing. 

Theodor  painted  the  woman's  face.  He 
75 


THE    STONE    OF    DESTINY 

thought  he  was  doing  the  model  lying  on 
the  dais.  Perhaps  the  eyes  were  hers,  but 
surely  this  crimson  mouth  was  the  one  he 
had  kissed  in  his  room  the  night  before. 

More  and  more  he  painted  what  was  in 
his  mind,  less  and  less  what  he  saw  before 
him.  The  recollection  of  her  virile  beauty 
mastered  his  brush,  glowed  in  his  colors 
— those  colors  which  mirrored  the  rarest 
secrets  of  creation  as  they  touched  his 
spirit. 

The  clock  chiming  twelve  recalled  him 
to  reality.  Suddenly  he  saw  what  he  had 
painted  and  drew  back  in  horror  from  his 
wife's  face  smiling  voluptuously  out  of  the 
dusk.  He  had  imprinted  in  that  face  the 
love  he  had  known.  He  turned  from  the 
easel.  Margaret,  who  had  entered  noise- 
lessly, stood  behind  him.  Serenely  she 
looked  from  the  picture  to  her  husband 
76 


THE    STONE    OF    DESTINY 

and  smilingly  asked  him  to  come  down  with 
her  to  the  garden. 

"  What  a  beautiful  woman,  Theodor — so 
full  of  the  joy  of  living!"  she  went  on,  in 
her  even  voice.  "  I  wish  you  would  give 
this  painting  to  me ;  it  is  beautiful." 

He  passed  the  remainder  of  the  day  try- 
ing to  show  her  the  road  along  which  he 
longed  to  walk  with  her.  But  she  was  not 
assimilative  enough  to  ape  understanding; 
so  the  day  left  no  imprint. 

The  weeks  which  followed  accentuated 
the  difference  between  them.  Uncon- 
sciously they  drifted  farther  and  farther 
away  from  each  other.  The  parallel  lines 
of  their  daily  lives  stretched  across  the  sum- 
mer months,  separated  by  what  was  to  him 
a  sheet  of  glass,  to  her  an  opaque  wall. 
The  fall  days  came,  carrying  the  beauty 
of  the  autumn  glory  down  the  hill-sides 
77 


THE    STONE    OF   DESTINY 

and  over  the  fields,  that  beauty  of  decay 
which  holds  the  promise  of  another  birth. 

In  these  months  he  realized  that  what- 
ever he  accomplished  must  be  from  the 
strength  of  the  gift  within  him,  for  the 
sake  of  what  it  might  bring  to  some  of 
those  struggling  in  the  darkness. 

He  knew  he  possessed  the  power  to  touch 
and  awaken  those  emotions  of  the  human 
heart  whose  energy  results  in  honesty  to 
one's  self  and  in  seeing  the  simplicity  of  the 
truth  of  the  universe.  He  never  felt,  even 
when  the  creations  of  his  imagination  were 
clear  and  strong  enough  to  have  been  in- 
spired by  the  very  breath  of  his  soul,  that 
they  were  emanations  from  his  self. 

An  inheritance  he  held  from  an  unknown 

source — an  indefinable  impetus — compelled 

him  to  expression ;  and  even  as  his  art  grew 

to  be  a  flexible  means  in  his  hand,  he  was 

78 


THE    STONE    OF    DESTINY 

conscious  of  an  obedience  to  some  great 
natural  law  for  which  he  found  no  ex- 
planation. 

Hour  upon  hour  he  spent  in  the  woods, 
interpreting  the  forest  as  no  man  may  have 
done  before.  Was  not  the  meaning  simple 
as  he  read  it  in  every  stately  oak,  in  all  the 
tiny  flowers  ? 

Other  and  many  hours  he  spent  in  the 
school,  working  with  and  for  the  children, 
continually  planning  new  ways  and  better 
means  to  show  them  how  to  grow  into  use- 
ful men  and  women.  Much  trouble  he  had 
and  little  compensation,  but  his  indomi- 
table will  compelled  accomplishment  to  re- 
ward his  toil. 

As  the  winds  grew  colder  and  shook  the 

leaves  from  tree  and  shrub  alike,  and  the 

snow  covered  the  earth,  transforming  the 

branches   into   icy   sentinels   to   wait    and 

79 


THE    STONE    OF    DESTINY 

watch  for  the  spring  season,  Theodor  lived 
his  time  at  home  in  his  studio  in  the  tower. 

The  valley  and  the  distant  hills  lay  shim- 
mering far  beneath  him,  and  from  his 
height  he  felt  as  though  he  were  alone  with 
the  snow-flakes  and  the  clouds.  Incessantly 
the  life  within  him  grew  more  vigorous, 
and  continually  he  walked  in  the  kingdom 
of  his  imagination,  in  the  commonwealth  of 
childhood. 

Often  he  waited  and  looked  for  Margaret 
to  come  to  him.  Sometimes  he  went  to  her, 
seeking  the  something  for  which  he  hun- 
gered, the  something  he  had  worshipped 
during  the  three  years  of  his  youth.  The 
gift  was  a  part  of  his  heart,  and  he  could 
not  take  it  from  her  again. 

One  afternoon,  late  in  the  autumn, 
Theodor  knocked  at  her  door.  He  had 
spent  a  long,  wearisome,  unsatisfactory 
80 


day  at  the  school,  smoothing  out  troubles, 
overcoming  obstacles.  As  he  was  leaving 
the  building,  tired,  discouraged,  doubtful 
of  the  ultimate  success  of  his  enterprise, 
the  head  matron  had  stopped  him,  saying: 

"  That  woman  died  last  night.  The  chil- 
dren have  not  been  allowed  to  go  home  since 
the  diphtheria  developed,  so  they  do  not 
even  know  how  ill  she  was.  They  must  be 
told  of  the  death.  What  shall  I  do?" 

It  had  flashed  through  Theodor's  brain 
that  here  was  a  chance  to  appeal  to  Mar- 
garet, to  bring  her  interest  into  this  work, 
so  he  had  answered :  "  I  shall  be  back  in  a 
couple  of  hours,  and  then  it  will  be  time 
enough  to  tell  the  children."  He  had  walk- 
ed home  full  of  hope  that  he  had  found  an 
opportunity  to  open  Margaret's  heart  to 
the  pulse  of  human  sorrow  throbbing  out- 
side her  gate. 

81 


THE   STONE    OF    DESTINY 

By  the  time  he  had  entered  the  house  and 
reached  the  door  he  was  confident  that 
now  was  ringing  the  hour  of  his  compensa- 
tion. 

Twice  he  knocked  before  there  was  an 
answer.  Then  he  opened  the  door. 

The  air  was  oppressive  with  the  perfume 
of  the  cigarette  Margaret  held  in  her  hand. 
She  was  lying  on  a  sofa,  indolent  in  the 
luxury  about  her,  apparently  indifferent 
to  Theodor's  entrance.  He  crossed  the  room 
to  where  she  was  and  began,  abruptly: 

"  Margaret,  I  want  you  to  help  me  in 
something.  Will  you  come  with  me,  now, 
down  to  the  school  ?  There  are  two  children 
there  in  the  shadow  of  a  great  loss.  A  poor 
woman  died  last  night  leaving  her  brother 
and  her  little  daughter  alone  in  the  world. 
There  is  no  one  to  break  the  news  to  them. 
I  want  you  to  do  it.  Will  you  come?" 
82 


THE   STONE    OF    DESTINY 

Margaret  stared  at  Theodor  in  amaze- 
ment. 

"  What — I !  You  must  be  mad  to  think 
of  such  a  thing.  How  could  I  get  up  now 
and  dress  and  go  down  to  that  village  and 
talk  to  those  strange  children  about  their 
dead  mother,  whom  I  have  never  seen? 
Really,  Theodor,  you  do  annoy  me." 

And  the  sharp  note  of  her  voice  showed 
her  irritation  as  she  continued : 

"  First,  you  get  wildly  interested  in 
painting,  and  think  and  speak  and  do 
nothing  else.  You  treat  it  as  a  sort  of  cult, 
and  expect  me  to  play  the  part  of  priestess 
in  your  worship.  Then,  because  this  art, 
as  you  treat  it,  is  an  unknown  quantity  to 
me,  you  leave  me  entirely  alone  for  weeks 
at  a  time.  Then  you  take  up  an  insane 
scheme  of  reforming  the  world,  and  you 
divide  your  time  between  your  studio, 
83 


THE    STONE    OF    DESTINY 

which  uses  your  days,  and  your  school, 
which  absorbs  your  money,  and  it  never 
occurs  to  you  to  come  and  sit  by  me  unless 
you  have  some  hallucination  by  which  you 
expect  me  to  be  carried  away. 

"  Certainly  I  am  not  going  to  move  from 
this  room  to  wander  about  in  the  cold  on 
such  a  quixotic  errand.  You  have  matrons 
and  teachers  in  your  school  whom  you 
pay  to  look  after  those  children.  Why 
can't  you  let  them  attend  to  the  little 
wretches  ?" 

"  But,  dear  Margaret,"  Theodor  urged, 
"  it  would  be  easier  for  them  to  bear  their 
grief  if  you  would  break  it  to  them  gently, 
tenderly,  as  only  a  mother  can,  telling  it  to 
them  in  the  words  you  would  have  a  trust- 
ed friend  use  to  your  own  babies  if  they 
were  left  orphans." 

"  My  own  babies !  Why.  I  never  can  talk 
84 


THE   STONE    OF    DESTINY 

to  them — they  are  so  stupid!  You  really 
are  mad  to  ask  me  to  go  and  talk  to  a 
couple  of  strange  children  whom  I  have 
never  laid  my  eyes  upon,"  she  answered. 

"  Margaret,"  Theodor  pleaded,  "  I  beg 
you  to  come.  They  need  your  sympathy; 
I  want  your  help.  I  want  you  to  work  with 
me  as  you  once  said  you  would.  There  is 
yet  time.  We  are  both  young  enough  to 
bridge  the  separation  I  feel  widening  be- 
tween us.  Give  up  some  of  the  treasure 
which  you  hide  within  your  heart  to  those 
who  are  hungry  for  it.  Give  me  a  little  of 
the  love  which  must  be  hidden  somewhere." 

He  took  her  hand  and  kissed  it.  As  he 
held  it  he  saw  the  ring  he  had  given  her 
was  no  longer  on  her  finger.  He  turned 
away,  his  heart  chilled,  his  brow  hard. 

Margaret,  who  was  watching  him  under 
her  long  lashes,  said,  very  softly : 
7  85 


THE    STONE    OF    DESTINY 

"  Be  satisfied  with  what  I  have  to  give. 
Stay  here  by  me  and  rest.  You  look  so 
sad  and  tired.  Let  me  kiss  away  the  lines 
and  the  hardness.  Love  me  my  way  for  a 
little  while." 

"  No,"  said  Theodor,  "  I  cannot  stay. 
If  you  will  not  come  with  me,  if  this  last 
appeal  is  vain,  I  shall  have  to  go  alone. 
Will  you  come?"  He  paused.  "No? 
Then  good-night." 

And  without  looking  at  her  again  he 
left  the  room. 

For  the  first  time  he  was  consciously 
facing  a  change  in  his  wife  which  he  had 
begun  to  feel  months  ago.  Was  this  hard 
woman  the  Margaret  he  had  loved?  Had 
he  unwittingly  sown  the  seed  which  had 
brought  forth  this  strange  fruition?  Or 
was  all  the  love,  as  well  as  her  other  quali- 
ties, but  a  reflection  of  what  lay  in  his  own 
86 


THE    STONE    OF    DESTINY 

heart,  of  what  he  wanted  to  see  in  her? 
Yet  even  in  his  loneliness  he  had  yearned 
for  her,  thought  of  her,  and  sought  her  as 
he  had  this  afternoon.  Always  he  had  felt 
for  her  in  every  thought,  in  every  deed. 

Slowly  Theodor  walked  out  of  his  house 
and  down  the  great  avenue.  The  winter 
twilight  had  vanished  into  the  starry  night. 
He  threw  back  his  head,  breathing  in  the 
cold,  crisp  air,  and  looking  into  the  heart  of 
the  heavens.  The  peace  from  its  depths 
entered  his  soul,  and  his  troubles  seemed  too 
small,  too  personal,  to  withstand  the  pres- 
ence of  the  night. 

He  reached  the  gate  and  started  along 
the  road  leading  to  the  house  in  which  was 
this  hour's  work. 

His  brain  was  full  of  this  mother  who 
was  dead  and  whom  he  had  never  seen.  He 
remembered  the  day  when  an  intelligent- 
87 


THE   STONE   OF   DESTINY 

looking  boy  of  some  fifteen  years  had  been 
one  of  the  first  applicants  at  the  school. 
The  lad  had  asked  for  admission  and  Theo- 
dor  had  granted  it  without  investigation, 
trusting  the  honest  eyes  and  straight- 
forward manner.  The  boy's  success  had 
been  one  of  his  rewards.  About  a  month 
before  he  had  asked  to  bring  his  sister's 
baby  girl  into  the  infant  class,  evidently 
shy  of  any  explanation.  And  Theodor  had 
complied.  Except  that  the  children  some- 
times went  home  to  a  house  on  the  outskirts 
of  the  village,  Theodor  knew  nothing. 

The  road  lay  through  the  main  street, 
and  as  he  passed  the  houses  he  smiled  to  see 
that  in  the  homes  of  the  more  prosperous 
the  shades  were  drawn,  concealing  what 
lived  within,  while  the  windows  of  the  more 
humble  left  their  lives  unshielded  from  the 
glance  of  those  who  passed.  And  Theodor 
88 


THE   STONE   OF   DESTINY 

thought  these  were  perhaps  the  happier: 
the  man  and  wife  sharing  their  children, 
their  toil,  their  fireside,  working  separately 
during  the  day,  but  equally  weary  and 
ready  to  enjoy  their  night-rest. 

Presently  he  stood  in  front  of  the  house 
he  sought.  There  was  no  light  in  the  win- 
dows, so  he  softly  pushed  open  the  door 
and  entered  the  dwelling.  A  dimly  burn- 
ing lamp  in  the  one  adjoining  room  cast  a 
faint,  yellow  shadow  across  the  floor.  Theo- 
dor  went  towards  it,  but  paused  upon  the 
threshold.  He  saw  first  the  outline  of  the 
silent  form  lying  on  the  bed,  and  then  he 
recognized  Theodora  sitting  at  the  bed- 
side. 

The  son  looked  from  his  mother  to  the 

dead   face   on   the  pillow,  the  beauty   of 

which  was  marred  by  the  seal  of  poverty. 

It  was  not  a  peaceful  face.  There  was  too 

89 


THE   STONE  OF    DESTINY 

much  sadness  on  the  brow.  Theodor  grew 
sick  at  heart,  for  he  had  seen  this  woman 
before  she  had  begun  her  struggle.  It 
was  the  girl  he  had  watched  on  the  boat  on 
that  morning  when  he  had  met  Margaret  by 
the  river. 

Theodora  raised  her  hand.  "  This  is  my 
share,"  she  said,  softly. 

Quietly  he  left  the  house,  measuring 
within  his  heart  the  portions  of  these  three 
women,  and  the  difference  appalled  him. 

On  he  walked  to  the  school,  thinking  that 
what  is  is  always  sadder  than  what  might 
have  been. 

At  last  he  saw  the  red-brick  building  be- 
fore him.  He  was  physically  exhausted 
from  his  long  day,  but  his  brain  was  afire 
with  the  energy  of  the  man  who  knows  he 
must  accomplish  something  which  will  dull 
the  ache  in  his  heart. 

90 


THE    STONE    OF    DESTINY 

As  he  went  up  the  steps,  the  matron,  who 
had  been  watching  for  his  return,  opened 
the  door. 

Theodor  turned  towards  the  empty 
school-room,  saying: 

"  Call  the  boy,  will  you,  please?  I  will 
speak  to  him  now,  and  you  can  tell  the  little 
girl  to-morrow." 

The  matron  disappeared  and  returned  in 
a  few  moments,  bringing  the  boy  with  her. 

"  Leave  us  alone  for  a  while,"  Theodor 
said,  and  he  took  the  child's  hand,  lead- 
ing him  towards  the  window,  away  from  the 
light. 

"  There  is  something  which  I  must  say 
to  you,"  he  began,  gently,  a  little  awk- 
wardly. "  It  will  be  hard  for  you  to  bear, 
and  you  must  be  man  enough  to  stand  this 
sorrow.  It  is  hard  for  me  to  tell  you,  and 
we  shall  have  to  help  each  other." 
91 


THE    STONE    OF    DESTINY 

He  held  the  boy's  hand  firmly  in  his 
own;  his  voice  was  full  of  tenderness  and 
sympathy. 

"  You  know  your  sister  has  been  ill,"  he 
went  on,  slowly,  for  the  boy  turned  white, 
though  not  a  muscle  of  his  face  moved,  and 
his  body  did  not  flinch. 

"  She  died  last  night,"  Theodor  said,  al- 
most in  a  whisper;  there  was  a  sob  in  his 
voice.  Not  a  sound  came  from  the  boy. 
He  straightened  his  back,  took  a  long 
breath,  and  stared  out  of  the  window  into 
the  blackness  beyond. 

"  Of  course,  you  and  the  little  girl  will 
live  and  work  here  until  you  can  make  your 
own  way.  You  have  your  chance,  and  the 
responsibility  of  her  care  must  help  you  to 
make  the  most  of  it.  And  feel  that  I  am 
your  friend,  my  boy,  and  that  you  will 
always  find  me  ready  to  do  what  is  in  my 
92 


THE   STONE   OF   DESTINY 

power  to  divide  your  burden  with  you." 
Theodor's  voice  was  steady  again  and  he 
spoke  quietly. 

"  Was  there  suffering?  Was  she  alone?" 
The  boy  spoke  for  the  first  time. 

"  She  was  not  alone ;  my  mother  was  with 
her,"  Theodor  answered. 

"  Oh !  If  you  only  knew  what  my  sister 
has  had  to  bear!  She  never  had  half  a 
chance."  And  then  the  old  story  of  sin 
and  shame  and  sorrow  was  poured  forth 
from  the  mouth  of  this  child. 

Later  in  the  night,  as  he  drove  to  his  own 
home,  Theodor's  heart  was  full  of  pity,  and 
there  was  no  room  for  his  own  sorrow. 


IX 

^^^^^O,  vainly,  Theodor   sought  to 

§Q  f$P  crush  the  difference  between 
^^*@&jit  them  by  training  Margaret's 
y&s&sw^jg  interest  to  need  a  wider  scope. 
She  would  not  open  her  heart  to  him,  fear- 
ing to  expose  the  little  quantity  of  feeling 
and  the  great  amount  of  sentimentality  it 
contained.  She  was  afraid  of  his  presence, 
because  his  honesty  towards  her  made  her 
dread  the  insight  of  his  straight,  clear  gaze. 

Her  days  at  first  were  full  of  bitter, 
angry  disappointment.  Continually  she 
blamed  him  for  not  being  satisfied  with 
what  she  had  to  give  him. 

After  all,  they  had  dreamed  together  for 
94 


THE   STONE    OF    DESTINY 

a  little  while.  Why  could  he  not  refrain 
from  awakening  her.  All  she  wanted  was 
to  be  caressed  and  loved.  She  was  a  little 
of  the  gypsy,  too,  in  her  utter  disregard 
of  obstacles  in  securing  what  she  coveted. 

She  sought  her  children  in  their  nursery, 
but  they  were  strangers  to  her  and  stopped 
their  play  and  looked  at  her  and  her  fine 
clothes  in  silent  awe. 

So  long  as  she  was  humiliated,  angry, 
hurt  at  him  for  not  understanding  and  for 
not  being  content,  her  days  passed  quickly 
enough.  But  very  soon  the  tempers  and 
the  tears  and  the  uselessness  of  her  unhap- 
piness  stamped  upon  and  killed  the  love 
for  him  which  gave  them  birth. 

Margaret  held  no  vigil  over  the  dead 
love,  but  buried  it  hastily,  completely,  and 
let  even  the  memory  of  its  existence  fade 
from  her  heart. 

95 


THE    STONE    OF    DESTINY 

She  sank  into  the  lethargy  of  indiffer- 
ence, of  utter  ennui,  from  which  she  roused 
herself  to  read  occasionally  and  follow  the 
stories  the  French  tell  so  well  of  those  who 
live  and  sin  under  that  terrible  curse, 
desoeuvrement,  which  has  dragged  so  many 
women  into  active  wrong. 

So  Margaret  and  Theodor  walked  upon 
the  road  of  loneliness. 

During  the  hours  he  spent  in  the  tower 
he  felt  the  voice  within  him  struggling, 
questioning,  conquering,  until  its  gospel 
was  there  upon  the  canvas  before  him,  and 
each  picture  bore  the  mark  of  the  strange 
travail  which  gave  it  life. 

In  his  loneliness  he  heard  other  voices, 
in  which  there  was  another  message,  the 
ever-living  re-creation  of  the  child,  which 
carries  the  promise  of  the  budding  spring- 
tide. The  voices  of  his  children  penetrated 
96 


THE   STONE   OF   DESTINY 

his  heart  one  afternoon  as  the  boy  and  the 
girl  found  their  way  to  his  tower-room  and 
stood  upon  the  threshold. 

When  they  realized  that  they  were  in  an 
unknown  part  of  the  house,  and  face  to 
face  with  father — the  gentle,  big  man  who 
sometimes  kissed  them  early  in  the  morning 
before  they  were  out  of  their  cribs — they 
were  frightened  by  their  own  inquisitive 
audacity,  and  the  little  girl  began  to  cry. 

Theodor  dropped  his  brushes  and  his 
palette  and  stared  at  the  two  little  white- 
robed  figures  in  the  doorway  quite  as  shyly 
as  they  gazed  at  him. 

There  they  stood,  these  two  intruders, 
the  little  boy  wiping  his  sister's  eyes  with 
the  edge  of  her  frock  and  patting  her  pro- 
tectively. 

Theodor  crossed  the  room,  and,  taking 
each  child  by  the  hand,  led  them  over  to  a 
97 


THE   STONE    OF    DESTINY 

high  settle  by  the  window,  and,  lifting  them 
upon  it,  sat  them  side  by  side,  saying : 

"  I  am  very  glad  to  see  you  both.  This 
is  your  first  visit  to  my  workshop,  and  I  am 
pleased  that  you  should  find  your  way 
here.  Now  baby's  eyes  are  dry  and  she 
looks  more  happy,  you  must  stay  a  while 
and  talk  to  me  while  I  work." 

The  girl  had  quite  regained  her  com- 
placency and  began  to  take  off  her  shoes 
and  stockings;  the  boy  seemed  to  realize 
the  responsibility  of  being  talked  to  like 
a  grown-up,  and  spoke  with  labored  dis- 
tinctness as  he  asked: 

"  Father,  why  do  you  work  so  far  away 
all  the  time?" 

"  To  show  the  little  I  know  to  some  of 
those  who  feel,"  Theodor  answered. 

"  But,  father,  shall  sister  and  me  work  ?" 
the  boy  asked. 

98 


THE   STONE    OF    DESTINY 

"  Certainly,  when  you  are  old  enough 
to  select  a  vocation  and  to  earn  your  liv- 
ing," the  father  affirmed,  smiling  at  the 
worried  looks  on  the  children's  faces. 

The  little  girl  had  successfully  taken  off 
both  shoes  and  stockings  by  this  time,  and 
was  twirh'ng  her  little  pink  toes  at  her 
father. 

"  Father,"  the  boy  went  on,  "  grand- 
mother told  us  our  rose-tree  had  died. 
What  is  to  die?" 

"  Yes,"  said  the  little  girl,  "  what  is  to 
die?" 

"  Well,  you  are  cheerful  questioners, 
both  of  you,"  Theodor  replied,  "  but  I 
suppose  I  may  as  well  tell  you  the 
truth.  To  die  is  to  sink  more  or  less 
painfully  into  a  dreamless  sleep  from 
which  there  seems  to  be  little  chance  of 
awakening.  The  flowers  and  the  people 


THE   STONE   OF   DESTINY 

live  to  the  limit  of  their  individual  life- 
spark,  and  then  fade  away  or  sleep 
away." 

Solemnly  the  little  boy  asked : 

"  Shall  grandmother  and  you  die  ?" 

"  Yes — some  day." 

"  Shall  sister  and  me  die?" 

"  Yes— in  time." 

"  Well  "  —  with  a  puzzled  frown  — 
"  who'll  live  here  after  we  are  all  dead?" 

"  Your  children — presumably." 

This  was  too  much  for  the  little  girl. 

"  What !"  she  exclaimed,  "  my  chiller — 
my  bad  chiller,  those  naughty  Follies,  they 
here!"  and  her  voice  rose  to  a  despairing 
shriek. 

Very  sternly  and  with  a  reproving  voice 
the  little  boy  said  to  her,  as  he  stroked  her 
plump,  round  hand : 

"  To-morrow  morning  we'll  bring  your 
100 


THE   STONE   OF    DESTINY 

family  up  here  to  father,  and  he  can  ex- 
plain to  them,  too. 

"  We'd  better  go  now ;  it's  time  to  go 
down  to  grandmother's  room." 

"  Sisser  want  father  to  come,  too,"  and 
the  child  climbed  down  from  the  settle  and 
ran  to  Theodor  and  took  his  nervously 
made  hand  in  her  little  soft  ones. 

He  lifted  her  to  his  shoulder,  and,  lead- 
ing the  boy  by  the  hand,  left  the  studio 
and  went  down  the  stair  and  through  the 
halls  to  Theodora's  door. 

The  boy  knocked.  A  gentle  voice  said 
"  Come  in,"  and  he  pushed  open  the  door 
and  announced,  in  his  slow,  distinct  enunci- 
ation : 

"  Grandmother,  we've  brought  father,  so 
you  could  explain  to  him,  your  way,  about 
the  rose-bush  dying." 


is  forever  going  on  while 

§np  $^P  some  of  his  human  progeny  fall 
^^*faij*  behind,  crushed  by  their  bur- 
s&Hp1  f^ptSK  den>  ancl,  pausing  on  their 

way,  stumble  and  fall  and  are  annihilated 
in  oblivion;  the  others,  ever  straining  for- 
ward, struggling  into  the  future,  abreast 
with  their  uncompromising  father,  striv- 
ing for  and  grasping,  until  their  dying 
breath,  their  portion  of  fate. 

Theodor  was  not  of  those  who  falter, 
question,  and  stand  still  upon  the  train  of 
Time,  for  he  made  Opportunity  his  help- 
mate and  Endeavor  his  companion.  His 
fame  spread  over  his  country  into  other 
102 


THE   STONE   OF   DESTINY 

lands,  and  he  reaped  a  harvest  of  good- 
will and  appreciation. 

Sometimes — at  rare  intervals — when  he 
and  Margaret  were  alone  together  he  was 
conscious  of  a  new  and  subtle  change  in 
her  attitude  towards  him.  He  was  aware 
that  she  shrank  from  the  pressure  of  his 
hand  and  the  touch  of  his  lips.  A  trans- 
formation drew  her  altogether  away  from 
him,  leaving  only  a  remembrance  of  his 
short  hour  in  the  garden  of  Eden  when  he 
and  she  were  looking  into  each  other's  eyes. 

Into  this  memory  he  grafted  the  best  of 
his  daily  thoughts,  eliminating  each  dis- 
illusion, until  he  took  back  his  own  again 
by  restoring  the  original  of  his  dream-love 
to  the  empty  shrine. 

As  he  once  loved  the  wife,  he  became  the 
mother  to  his  children.  They  were  the  pivot 
of  his  life,  and  their  young  and  pure  and 
103 


THE   STONE    OF    DESTINY 

tender  feelings  brought  the  truest  joy  into 
his  heart,  the  love  which  is  the  only  un- 
selfish one  in  the  legion  which  grows  in  all 
sorts  and  kinds  of  men  and  women. 

Their  tiny,  dimpled  hands  sought  and 
found  their  way  to  the  innermost  storehouse 
of  his  nature ;  for  their  pleasure  he  used  his 
imagination  to  the  limit  of  its  stories;  for 
their  example  he  took  even  the  smallest 
part  of  his  work  and  did  it. 

Many  hours  those  three  lived  together, 
and  as  the  children  grew  into  his  life  and 
closer  to  his  heart,  Theodor  found  his  re- 
ward sweet  beyond  all  dreams.  So  the 
seasons  budded,  bloomed,  and  faded,  bring- 
ing ever  nearer  the  great  day  when  the 
son  and  daughter  should  stand  upon  the 
threshold  of  their  own  life,  entering  their 
kingdom  with  their  hands  in  his  and  their 
eyes  seeing  even  farther. 
104 


THE   STONE   OF    DESTINY 

In  these  days  he  no  longer  attempted  to 
penetrate  beyond  Margaret's  smile.  Often 
he  marvelled  at  her  glowing  beauty,  and 
passed  on,  relieved  to  see  that  she  seemed 
to  be  content  with  her  own  way  of  life. 

One  morning  Theodor  was  standing  on 
a  crowded  corner  of  one  of  the  streets  of 
the  neighboring  city.  His  face  was  con- 
tracted by  the  force  of  his  inward  activity. 
Suddenly  an  impulse  prompted  him  to  look 
at  and  into  the  rushing,  pushing,  passing 
human  stream.  Margaret  was  walking 
towards  him  in  the  crowd.  She  did  not 
see  him  as  she  came  along  with  shining  eyes 
and  brilliant  cheeks.  A  radiant  symbol, 
full  of  aggressive  loveliness,  she  passed  and 
vanished  like  a  stranger  into  the  living  sea 
of  faces. 

"  Is  there  a  man  upon  this  earth,"  mur- 
mured Theodor  to  himself,  "  who  could 
105 


THE    STONE    OF    DESTINY 

have  awakened  Margaret?  Has  she  any- 
thing behind  her  beauty  which  might  vi- 
brate into  a  living  love?" 

In  the  flash  of  the  thought  his  spirit 
writhed  with  an  agony  of  yearning  for  the 
quality  of  love  he  had  vainly  sought.  His 
soul  rebelled  against  the  disappointment 
of  his  destiny,  for  he  knew  his  manner  of 
living  was  not  according  to  the  wish  of  his 
heart.  For  the  first  time  he  paused;  and 
he  doubted  himself.  Then  the  moment 
was  dead  and  the  bitterness  of  his  anguish 
with  it. 

"  Am  I  not,"  he  wondered,  "  like  the 
child  in  the  nursery  tale  whom  the  Snow 
Queen  hid  in  her  mantle  and  carried  away 
to  the  Land  of  Ice,  embracing  the  child 
in  her  flight?  The  first  kiss  chilled  his 
heart;  the  second  one  caused  his  soul  to 
tremble.  So  the  cold  Snow  Lady  mur- 
106 


THE   STONE    OF    DESTINY 

mured,  as  she  clasped  the  numbed  and 
shuddering  boy  to  her  icy  breast.  *  My 
third  kiss  I  shall  not  give,  for  it  means 
death!'  Perhaps  the  victory  lies  in  this 
last  embrace.  In  those  far  northern  lights 
I  might  regain  my  freedom." 

Theodor  reached  his  home  that  after- 
noon as  the  sun  was  shining  gently  through 
the  lowest  branches  of  the  trees,  breathing 
a  last  caress  into  the  bosom  of  the  earth. 
The  wind  had  passed ;  the  air  was  still ;  the 
calm  loveliness  of  the  ending  day  laid  a 
cool  and  peaceful  feeling  over  his  weary 
loneliness. 

Slowly  he  walked  under  the  trees  until 
he  reached  the  house.  So  placidly  beauti- 
ful was  the  garden,  so  mysterious  the 
shadowy  depths  of  the  forest  beyond,  that 
Theodor  stood  still  against  the  wall,  bid- 
ding a  silent  farewell  to  the  setting  sun. 
107 


THE    STONE    OF    DESTINY 

He  heard  the  sound  of  Margaret's  voice 
coining  through  the  open  drawing-room 
window.  It  jarred  his  mood,  driving  the 
deep  enjoyment  from  his  spirit. 

Unconsciously  his  brain  absorbed  the 
words  his  wife  was  speaking. 

"  My  love,  my  dearest  love !"  her  voice 
was  pleading,  "  I  cannot  bear  the  decep- 
tion any  longer.  I  cannot  lie  again.  It  is 
not  because  of  Theodor.  He  would  not 
give  me  what  I  wanted,  and  I  had  the  right 
to  seek  and  expect  happiness.  But  my 
baby  girl  is  growing  into  womanhood,  and 
even  though  she  is  a  stranger  to  me,  I 
come  home  from  our  hour  with  the  memory 
of  your  kisses  still  burning  on  my  mouth, 
glowing  in  my  heart,  stamped  upon  my 
brow  for  those  who  know  our  sort  of  love, 
and  I  dare  not  come  under  the  same  roof 
with  her  innocence.  I  cannot  learn  my 
108 


THE    STONE   OF    DESTINY 

duty  towards  her  with  your  arms  around 
me ;  so  let  us  part  before  it  is  too  late  and 
while  the  something  which  compels  me  to 
break  with  you  has  the  power  to  withstand 
my  inclination." 

Theodor  stood  immovable,  paralyzed, 
his  thoughts  whirling  wildly  through  his 
brain,  compelling  him  to  understand  this 
revelation  with  so  much  force  that  he  could 
not  stir  while  Margaret  was  speaking. 

Then  mad,  blinded  with  rage,  murder 
in  his  heart,  he  threw  the  window  open  and 
burst  into  the  room. 

He  stood  before  them  for  an  instant, 
awful  in  his  anger.  He  raised  his  hand 
to  strike  down  the  thief  before  him, 
but  his  hand  remained  uplifted,  for  the 
sound  of  his  children's  voices  coming 
from  without  penetrated  the  barrier  of 
his  hate. 

109 


THE   STONE    OF    DESTINY 

His  arm  dropped  to  his  side.  A  sigh 
of  unutterable  grief  came  from  the  depths 
of  his  very  self  as  the  shadow  of  his  love 
faded  from  its  sanctuary  and  the  altar 
crumbled  within  his  heart. 

He  turned  his  eyes  from  the  guilt  before 
him  and  looked  out  of  the  farther  window 
and  saw  the  boy  and  girl  sitting  by  his 
mother's  chair  under  the  old  oak-tree — a 
peaceful,  gentle  picture  of  innocent  con- 
tentment. 

With  all  his  strength,  Theodor  took  his 
courage  into  his  seething  spirit  and  spoke 
to  the  man  cringing  before  him: 

"  Go ;  leave  this  woman  forever.  Live 
your  own  life.  Die  your  own  death,  for 
you  carry  the  curse  of  your  theft  in  your 
breast.  Go,"  and  he  raised  his  hand. 

The  man  walked  out  of  the  room,  across 
the  lawn,  down  the  avenue. 
110 


THE   STONE   OF   DESTINY 

The  awful  silence  of  Fate's  presence 
filled  the  room. 

Theodor  stood  as  though  turned  to 
stone  until  the  man  disappeared  in  the 
distance. 

Then  he  looked  at  Margaret. 

He  took  her  hand  in  his  and  led  her  to 
the  window.  They  paused  upon  the  sill, 
and  Theodor  saw  the  faces  smiling  to  him 
out  of  the  dusk.  Almost  in  a  whisper  he 
murmured : 

"  Come,  my  wife — come  with  me  to  our 
children  and  to  my  mother." 

They  stepped  out  upon  the  lawn  and 
went  towards  Theodora.  The  mother 
looked  into  her  son's  eyes  and  read  his 
victory  there.  He  knelt  down  beside  her 
chair  and  laid  his  head  against  her  breast. 
Theodora  folded  her  arms  around  him  as 
if  he  were  a  child. 

Ill 


THE  STONE  OF  DESTINY 

Her  eyes  closed  and  she  thought  she  was 
standing  at  the  end  of  a  long,  hard  road. 
And,  behold!  she  was  upon  the  summit  of 
the  mountain.  Her  soul  and  her  son's  soul 
met,  and  his  voice,  which  sounded  strangely 
like  a  dearly  beloved  voice  silenced  long 
ago,  murmured,  tenderly,  "  There  is  no 
retribution,  for  I  am  the  Compensation." 

And  in  this  supreme  moment  of  victory 
Theodora's  spirit  passed  on  beyond  this 
world,  and  Theodor  held  his  mother's  life- 
less form  against  his  heart. 


THE    END 


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